Gone
by Katie Ann
Summary: The Sultan gave his daughter a grave look as her tears fell like rain. He turned to face Aladdin. “My boy, you were gone for six long years. Didn't you know?”
1. Gone, part I

Gone

* * *

The blazing heat beat down upon the back of Aladdin's neck. The sun lit the sky and heated the sand. It heated it—for any other word could not describe the temperature of the grains of rock under Aladdin's feet. The heat rose from the ground and suffocated him, for the heat was so extreme and so sickening, Aladdin felt as though he might fall and never get back up. Just another day in the desert.

It was nearly night time, but still the heat lingered in the air and on the ground. Aladdin felt that the burning sensation of the heat would never separate from his skin, his clothes, and his muscles. He looked down at his feet, which fortunately were covered with shoes. He was glad that he bought them before he left, even if they did not completely abolish all the heat from his toes. But that was fine, since he hadn't paid too much for them anyway.

Wiping the beads of sweat that were pouring from his forehead with the back of his hand, Aladdin gazed up from the ground to view the city. He was on the outskirts, near the canyon just outside the large conurbation. The palace covered much of his view, and he couldn't take his eyes off it. It was where he belonged. Not in the palace really, but with the person who lived there.

Jasmine.

With her on his mind, he found renewed strength hidden deep within his body, strength that had been lost until that moment. He took a deep breath and moved his feet again, trudging back to his home and back to his life, which he hadn't visited in too long.

A sense of relief swept past him as he entered through the main gates, even though he knew he was still at least an hour away from seeing all those he loved. Still, he loved the city, and the people in the city. The citizens were his extended family, and although he might not know them all by name, he had grown to love the citizens for what they offered him. He protected them in their time of need, and they overlooked him with a kind of reverent respect, something which the street rat truly appreciated.

It was less than an hour away from night, but the city still bustled with liveliness. It was the cooler part of the day, and all the merchants wanted to sell a little bit more before they retired to the night. The people wanted to get a few more errands out of the way before they returned home for dinner with their families. Everyone was focusing on their last task that hardly anyone noticed Aladdin as he slowly crept past them. The few that did see him gasped and rushed quickly to one side. Aladdin didn't even notice. It was too much effort to notice.

He walked further. As he got closer and closer to the heart of the city, more and more people grew aware of his presence. Again, he was oblivious. People gasped and cried out, people smiled and clapped their hands in delight, and others were stricken with confusion. But soon, an entire crowd had gathered to one side, watching Aladdin's back as he slowly made his way down the main street of Agrabah.

The ones that knew him pointed him out to their friends and acquaintances. "Look!" They said. "There is Aladdin! He has returned to Agrabah! But how?"

"Aladdin? Who is he?"

"You've no knowledge of him? Why, he is the greatest hero this side of the seven deserts!"

"Doesn't look like a hero to me. Look at him; he's so tired and dirty. Besides, he isn't even dressed as a hero. He is dressed as a street rat."

"But he is a street rat! A street rat that turned into a hero!"

"What ridiculous nonsense. You've been under the sun too long today."

"But I tell you, he is the greatest hero this city has ever seen!"

Children gawked at him like children do. They tugged on their parents' arms and pointed openly at the man. "Look Mama! Who is that? Is he a soldier?"

Their parents looked up and gasped. "How did he return?"

Aladdin was not met by any of the people. They stayed back and pointed at him, rather than greeting him with open arms. But the street rat did not see them; he could see nothing except the menacing palace gates. To Aladdin, the gates represented his latest journey, one that had taken him from his home and loved one. But now was the time to return.

He passed by a familiar stand now. It was full of fruit, and the merchant who was working it first shrieked and then sighed upon seeing Aladdin. "Come back now, eh street rat? You might want to go to your hovel before you go to the palace. You'll be surprised!"

It took tremendous force to stop the constant stepping of his feet, but Aladdin managed to halt before the fruit stand to look up at Omar. Aladdin looked at Omar and saw the past, dancing feverishly in his mind. Omar looked at Aladdin and saw severe sadness, so much so that he could not bear to look the poor man in the eye.

Omar caught Aladdin glimpse briefly at his products and the merchant grabbed a ripe, red apple. He handed it to the hero. "Here, take this. I'm sure the whole city owes you for whatever you did to save us out in the desert." Aladdin hesitated at first, not sure what the merchant meant, and then took the apple from Omar. "Don't be in such a hurry to get home, Aladdin. You might not like what you see." Aladdin continued to look at Omar with the weariest eyes Omar had ever seen. It was as if Aladdin's body kept going, and his eyes were the only truth of how tired he was.

The merchant looked away from Aladdin again, and began putting things way, for the sun was nearly set and he was done selling for the day. "Go home, Aladdin." He sighed. "Go see everyone you love. Maybe it will take the blankness out of your eyes."

Aladdin felt the weariness that Omar perceived began to take its toll on his body. He stumbled a bit before slumping against the wall, the apple falling from his hand. He wanted so badly to lie down and rest—probably for the rest of his life, he was so drained—but knew that he would never find sleep until he had seen his friends and loved ones again. And so with great force he lifted his feet and turned to walk away. He nodded to Omar after a few steps and then began the longest walk he had ever taken: to the palace, some hundred yards away.

To Aladdin, an eternity passed with every step he took. The sand was starting to cool from the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon, but it also seemed to grow thicker and hotter, halting his tread more and more. The laughter and the whispers were dying away now and the only noises Aladdin could hear above the pounding of his chest and the heaving of his breath were the sounds coming from each house he passed, each family he elapsed. Families that sat down to dinner and watched from their windows as the hero passed them by, looking like a zombie in the red shadow of the setting sun.

A lifetime later, Aladdin reached the palace gates, their size and weight as intimidating in their imminence. At the moment, Aladdin felt like a stranger forbidden entry into the prominent palace and he was hesitant to go any further. Should he wait until morning, refreshed and ready to feel again? But he knew he could wait no longer, and the lingering only made his hungry need to see Jasmine and all those he loved even greater.

The gate was heavier than he remembered, and it took a bit of effort to push it open. He had it nearly ajar when a hand grabbed him from behind and pulled him around.

"And just what do you think you're doing, stranger?" Rasoul asked Aladdin, pulling the young man away and throwing him to the ground. Rasoul cowered over Aladdin, but Aladdin knew not to be afraid of the loyal palace guard.

"Stranger? I think that hurts more than street rat." The hero rose to his feet and steadied himself on the gate. "But stranger is a nice touch considering I haven't seen you in a while."

Rasoul let out a gasp when he the street rat faced him, and he took several steps back in fear. He put his hand on his sword, but didn't pull it completely from its sheath. "How can it be?"

Aladdin gave the guard an inquisitive look and took a step toward him. "What's wrong, Rasoul? It's me, Aladdin…remember?"

Rasoul put up an arm, blocking his face, as if to shield himself from Aladdin. "Yes, I remember, but…."

Aladdin took another step forward and Rasoul took another step back. "But…what?"

Rasoul gulped and moved back again. "I think you should go see the princess." With that, he turned on his heel and hurriedly jogged away from Aladdin. He stopped at a corner, gave Aladdin one last look, shook his head, and then left Aladdin's sight.

Aladdin stood there for a second, slightly dumbfounded. "Okay…." He walked past the huge, blue gate and pushed it closed after a moment's pause. "Maybe Rasoul should stay out there; I think there's something wrong with him…"

He gave a shrug and slowly made his way to the palace door. The complete absence of the guards did not dawn on him in his weary state, and his slow tread up the steps enlightened his heart each time his foot pressed against the stone. Minutes—no, seconds!—and he would be finally be at rest.

He half stepped into the throne room, but stopped short in the doorway when he heard the sound of her laughter. Only his head and upper body were visible past the door as his eyes sharply searched the room to find her.

Jasmine was sitting on a large pillow next to the dining table brought out every night, and her smile was evident from across the room. Her father, the Sultan, was at the head of the table, facing Aladdin, and he also was grinning largely, as though he and his daughter had just shared a common thought and found it humorous. Genie was floating in the air next to the Sultan, lying on his side, beaming as well.

"Okay! Okay! So turning Iago into a monkey to punish him for stealing from the royal treasure room might be a little bit extreme, but…"

"…it's funny!" Jasmine finished for Genie, putting her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter.

The Sultan shook slightly as he quietly laughed too. "Now Genie, I'm sure Iago learned his lesson… I doubt he will steal from the royal treasure room— "

"For a few weeks. Father, Iago has tried to steal again and again and again! Why won't you realize this too?"

"Dearest, Iago has a thieving nature. It's all right. Just leave him as a monkey for… oh…three weeks and I can bet he will never do anything like this again!"

"I suppose…. But you must admit Father, this is funny!" Jasmine giggled at the image that popped into her head and smiled widely at her father.

"Yes, seeing a monkey with a beak is rather amusing…"

Aladdin watched the three laugh happily together and found that he was silently laughing too. He was so glad to see them again that he continued standing in the doorway, afraid of breaking up the precious moment he so sorely missed being a part of.

"Now, Jasmine, you must tell me about what happened in Presse. I must know what happened with--" But the Sultan never finished his sentence. He caught a glimpse of Aladdin standing in the doorway, and put his arm before his face much like Rasoul. "By Allah…"

Jasmine, still giggling, noticed his odd expression. She stopped laughing and looked at him curiously. "What's wrong, Father?"

Genie looked at the Sultan, too, and then followed his eyes to where they were fixed. Genie set eyes on Aladdin and fell out of the air.

Jasmine saw Genie hit the ground and looked back at the door. She saw Aladdin and her eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Genie brought his head out of the floor and looked up again at his friend. Aladdin, realizing that he was caught, came out of the doorway and walked forward into the large room.

"Aladdin?" Genie was standing now, rooted to the spot, confusion splattered all over his face.

"Hey, Genie…" was all Aladdin could get out. He looked at Genie and smiled when he saw his expression. "It hasn't been that long, has it?"

"Aladdin… my boy, you're back! But how?" The Sultan seemed to be the first able to respond to Aladdin's presence in a functioning manner, and jumped up from his cushion to cross the room and shake Aladdin's arm vigorously. He realized what he was doing before he pulled Aladdin's arm off, and instead dispersed the height difference and pulled Aladdin in for a hug.

Aladdin bent down to the Sultan's level to receive his greeting, but kept his eyes on Jasmine the entire time. She had both hands over her mouth and her eyes were reflective with tears. She stayed back, however, and made no effort to move. As the Sultan let Aladdin go, Genie came whizzing over and picked Aladdin up. He twirled him in the air and hugged him tightly. "Aladdin! Kid! You're back! And your front! You're both here!"

Aladdin spun in the air with Genie and gasped for breath as Genie hugged him tightly. "I'm back, Genie…"

Genie tossed him into the air and caught him. "I can't believe it! My buddy is back!" He changed into a mother-figure that oddly resembled Edith Bunker from 'All in the Family'. "Oh! I'm so glad you're back, Arch! How was your day, dear?"

Aladdin raised his eyebrows, but smiled. He was glad to be the victim of Genie's antics again.

Genie changed back quickly and grabbed one of Aladdin's hands to swing him around. "My buddy is back! He's back, he's back, he's back…" He was dancing around and dropped Aladdin to the floor as he continued his cheer. "He's back, he's alive, he's still his same old size…" Genie stopped for a second. "What else rhymes with alive?"

The Sultan shrugged. "Thrive?"

Genie shook his head. "No, I don't think I could make that work." Genie stuck his tongue out as he concentrated. "Wait, what about, 'Into our hearts he still has dived? No, that doesn't work… maybe if I don't use alive…"

Aladdin picked himself off the floor and dusted off his pants, though they seemed permanently stained with the blood of the desert. He chuckled at Genie as he raised his head. His eyes met Jasmine's almost instantly and he froze when he saw her. Genie and the Sultan looked over at the two. Jasmine was now standing and her mouth was still open in surprise and wonderment; Aladdin had a look of slight fear—as though he were afraid of her reaction in seeing him.

Jasmine took a step toward him. "Is it really you?" She whispered.

A hundred feet apart, Aladdin heard her every word and nodded. "It's really me, Jasmine."

She continued walking toward him, unsure of how her feet found the order to move at all. She was now just a few paces away. "Say it again."

Aladdin's eyebrows knitted together. "Say what again?"

Jasmine took one more step forward. "My name. I've been praying I could hear you say my name one last time."

Aladdin's eyes were already filled with love, and now his voice filled with it too. "Jasmine…"

Jasmine choked out a cry and ran over to Aladdin. She jumped into his arms and cried into his chest. He picked her up and held her tightly, kissing the side of her head and slowly rocking her back and forth. The rest of the world was forgotten as Aladdin and Jasmine reunited: he held her close, afraid to let her go, and she cried softly onto his heart, afraid of ever being away from it again.

She trembled in his arms, and he regretted ever leaving her side. How stupid he'd been to leave her, with their wedding day so close! He ran his fingers through her soft ebony hair and rocked her gently to the beating of his heart. Choked by her emotions and his own, Aladdin was at a loss for words. He couldn't think of what to say that would bring her comfort and quiet her pain, and could only hold her tightly, the pressure of his arms assuring her that he would never let her go.

Jasmine stopped sobbing after many minutes, but stayed in Aladdin's arms. She was so comforted being held by him, that she forgot everything and was lost in him. Lost in his arms, lost in his scent, lost in the powerful emotion that enveloped and warmed her heart at his touch. She whispered into his ear. "Is this a dream? Are you really here?"

Aladdin took her chin in his hands and she looked up away from his chest and stared into his eyes. "I'm really here, my Princess. But this feels like a dream anyway."

She held his hands as he lovingly caressed her cheek. "I thought I lost you forever…"

Aladdin shook his head. "You'll never lose me, Jasmine. I'll love you until the day the earth dies. I'll always be by your side." He hugged her tightly again and she began to cry once more.

Carpet, Abu and a much disfigured Iago (who resembled a half-bird half-monkey) came bursting through the door. "What's all the commotion? Jeesh, you'd think we're having a party in here…" Iago stopped short as he saw Jasmine hugging someone and crying. Aladdin's back was to them and Iago, Abu and Carpet couldn't see his face. "What the…"

As Iago spoke, Aladdin moved back from Jasmine, and turned around. As soon as Iago and Abu saw Aladdin's face, they gasped and stepped back. Iago rubbed his eyes with his feathers, blinking, certain that his eyes were deceiving him. Abu simply stood there, too surprised to move, too stunned to register the presence of his friend.

Aladdin, attempting and failing to ease away the awkwardness of the moment, shrugged his shoulders and cracked a small smile. "Hey guys…"

It was as if a gun had exploded. Abu and Iago both let out boisterous shrieks and ran as fast as they could to Aladdin, almost knocking him down in fright. Abu leaped onto Aladdin's shoulder, circled his neck, and wrapped his tiny arms around Aladdin's head, hugging tightly. Iago flew up and then back down (his wings now only being able to carry him so far, as they weren't really wings anymore), grabbing hold of Aladdin's leg and squeezing it firmly. Carpet expanded and then hurriedly flew to Aladdin, sliding under his feet like a rug and lifting Aladdin into the air wildly before setting him back down on his feet.

"Al! Oh Al, you're alive! You're alive!"

Genie, sensing a "group-hug" moment, took hold of Jasmine and the Sultan's hands and threw them onto Aladdin. "Everyone, in together now!" He shouted, picking up the large and fumbling group, too shaken for words at the sight of their true friend and companion.

Eventually it was Iago who called everyone off a few minutes. "Okay, that's enough mushy stuff. Okay… GET OFF NOW." The Sultan stepped back somewhat as Iago shouted. "Thank you. I think I've managed to keep some of my spine intact…"

There was laughter all around, and a few sniffles from Jasmine, who didn't seem capable of composing herself just yet. Aladdin looked at her, the thing he treasured most in the entire world, and held her hand. He almost regretted it for as soon as he did Jasmine started bawling again, surrounding Aladdin with her arms, threatening to choke his breath.

The dinner on the table lay forgotten as everyone in the room was marveling at the return of their greatest friend. The Sultan, the only one who seemed to be able to produce full, coherent, and sane sentences, called for the guards and the servants. "Everyone, in here!" Rasoul and a few of the servants nearby quickly gathered round. "Rasoul, you are to alert the city as soon as possible tomorrow morning that there will be an announcement concerning Aladdin's return. Kader," he said, addressing a servant to his left, "please go and prepare Aladdin's chamber—I want him to have the best night's sleep he has ever had tonight. The rest of you, please see to it that Aladdin is made comfortable."

The other servants obeyed immediately, all hurrying off to follow the Sultan's orders. Rasoul bowed roughly and muttered something about not wanting to celebrate the return of a street rat, but even he seemed pleased to see Aladdin yet again. Aladdin, focused on Jasmine and his friends' crazy antics, seemed not to notice any of it.

Genie was beside himself with happiness. He was bouncing off the walls of the room, picking Aladdin up and putting him down, throwing food in the air, and being more Genie than Aladdin had ever seen him be. There were nearly tears in his eyes whenever he looked at Aladdin, and his words were cut off with laughs and cheers. "I can't believe it—you're back! Little buddy! I never—but how? But why? Who cares! You're back!"

Abu chattered happily around Aladdin as well, sitting on his shoulder and then running off to hit Iago excitedly, who in turn would chase him about the room. More of the dinner was ruined this way, but the servants, recognizing the noise, began to gather what remained of the supper and cleared the table.

Of course, Aladdin was thankful that his friends welcomed him back so happily, and he wasn't angry at all the bliss occurring in his honor—but he was suspicious. Perhaps he had been away while something major had happened? Maybe Mozenrath had attacked while he was away? Was a sand monster assaulting the city and stealing all the children? What was going on?

It was then that he spotted the turban.

He had been looking at Genie (who in turn had been turning himself into random things in all his delight of seeing Aladdin) when out of the corner of his eye he had spotted something red. Something VERY red. The color so contrasted with the marble walls of the palace that he didn't know why he hadn't seen it before.

It was a turban, sitting on a table in the next hall across from him. The door had been left slightly ajar by a servant who was busily clearing the table, and Aladdin's eyes slowly fixated upon it. No one else noticed it; Genie was bouncing around again, Iago was throwing dinner plates at Abu who was running around the Sultan's feet, Carpet was trying to save Abu, and Jasmine was hugging Aladdin tightly, almost draining his breath.

But there it was: a deep, blood red turban sitting on a table in the hallway next-door. However, the question wasn't why it was there, but who it belonged to.

Jasmine pulled back to look at Aladdin, and he found his eyes automatically drawn to her own. Tears had covered her cheeks and reddened her eyes, and yet he still found that her face was the most beautiful thing he had ever looked at. Its beauty was something that he had truly missed after his short leave, and couldn't believe he had gone so long without looking into her eyes and staring into her soul.

"I can't believe you're back…" she whispered to him, almost afraid that the words would drive him away.

"Oh, but you can believe it, Jasmine. I'm back here now, and I'm never going to leave again."

Her eyes had closed when he had said this and then opened slowly to look right at him—her stare piercing through his very being. "You'll never leave? Do you promise?"

He chuckled slightly and pulled back a loose strand of her hair from her face. "I promise that I will never leave you alone again, my princess. I promise that everyday you shall find me with you, and that whenever the sun sets you shall find me close to your heart. Always."

More tears climbed down her face and she smiled as the words soaked in. "Then that's enough for me, Aladdin. That is enough for me."

Her eyes traveled to his lips and she kissed him deeply; she not wanting to let his lips leave hers and he wanting to forever take in her taste, salty tears and all.

* * *

Aladdin purposefully walked through the palace, his fingers interwoven with Jasmine's, and looking unashamedly at her every moment he could. The palace was surprisingly different already, and Jasmine tried to remark on the changes made during his trip, but could hardly keep from sniffling in between sentences. That curtain replaced after the rainstorm, that vase a new gift from the city of Mercadia. To Aladdin, her words were like a melody, and he was having a hard time paying any attention to the subject of their discussion, but instead continually pointed out the obvious.

"By Allah, you're the most beautiful jewel in the desert, Jasmine." Statements which prompted a buried blush and broad smile from the princess.

"Are you even paying attention, Aladdin?"

Aladdin grinned as he hooked his arm with hers. "No."

"Then you don't want me to show you to your room?"

Aladdin shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Jasmine, where a new tapestry came from or how many tons of roses where sent by a foreign friend. The palace wouldn't mean a thing to me if you weren't here to brighten its marble walls."

Jasmine sighed a little, a sigh of contentment and peace. "And just where did you learn such smooth talk, Aladdin? I hope you weren't off courting another woman in the time you've been gone."

The joke, meant to tease the man, actually made her start crying again. It pained Aladdin to see any hurt upon her face and in her heart, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why she was being so moody. He'd been gone a short time, and they'd been apart much longer before, so why did Jasmine start crying at every mention of his absence? Aladdin had assumed that although the trip had exhausted him physically and mentally, everything would be normal upon his return.

Jasmine gave up looking at his face now, and he stopped from pulling her attentions there. He would give her the time she needed to recover, and made a mental note to never leave her side for more than a week again.

The couple passed by a large empty room with an underwater theme, another bedroom with red silk covering nearly every inch of it, a room with a large bath in the center, and another hallway until finally Aladdin found familiar landmarks. He saw the large picture of the palace and city near the huge blue doors and knew he had arrived at Jasmine's sleeping quarters. She sniffed a little as she turned and pointed down another hallway to the door at the end where he would be staying for the night.

"I thought you might like the bedroom with the other balcony. That way you could sleep next to it, if you'd want to, like before."

He turned to her, and his eyebrows went up slightly. "Like before?"

She choked back tears when he started talking, but then turned to him with a smile on her face. "You know, in your hovel? The large window that you sleep next to? I thought you would be used to that."

Frankly, he wasn't used to walking in the palace again, but he smiled widely at her thoughtfulness and squeezed her hand tightly. "I would like that. Thank you."

She looked to the floor and he looked over the window—the uneasiness seemed to have come back. For some reason or another, she wasn't used to seeing him just yet, and she took to staring at the floor whenever there was an awkward pause. Like now.

Aladdin thought of something quickly, and drew back his free hand to the vase behind him. He pulled on a flower, and brought it before her. Jasmine looked up and smiled at the sight of it.

"The most beautiful flower, for the most beautiful lady."

She looked at the flower, then up at him with a pleased look on her face. Aladdin, bemused, looked down and noticed that the flower he had intended to pick from the vase was actually shriveled and dead. "Uh…."

She laughed and took the dead plant from his hands. "It's lovely. I wouldn't change a thing." She giggled again as she held it away from her, taking in a full view look. He smiled at her and put his hand below her chin to turn her towards him.

"Neither would I." He stared into her eyes again and she smiled broadly, the tears quickly evaporating from her face.

"Even after all this time, you're still throwing out cheesy love lines?"

He looked at her, somewhat confused as she pulled away a little, though the smile on her face she couldn't hide. She laughed as she added, "And after all this time I'm still falling for them." Giggling, she pushed herself up against him. She wiped some of the dirt off his face with the back of her hand, and then stopped. Her smile quickly vanished as they locked eyes and became still.

Aladdin slowly caressed the side of her face and held her cheek in his hand. "It feels so good to drink in the very sight of you. I can't believe we ever parted."

Jasmine sighed into the side of his hand and cast her eyes downward. "I can."

Aladdin pulled her face over to look at him and he saw the tears he thought had vanished had simply hid in her eyes. "What's wrong, Jasmine?"

Jasmine sniffed and focused her stare onto Aladdin's chest. "Nothing. Everything is fine. Everything is just as it was before."

Aladdin was confused again. "Is that a bad thing?"

Jasmine looked up again to answer but couldn't get anything out. They heard a loud noise to their left, and they turned to face Jasmine's bedchamber door. They saw the swish of blue mist and heard a small squeak that sounded familiar.

Aladdin dropped his hands from Jasmine's face and laughed. "Genie…"

A small voice came from inside the nearly closed door. "Nope…no Genie here….you're hearing things…no one here…."

Aladdin smiled over at Jasmine as she chortled, and he joined in as he walked up to the door. "Oh, yeah, you're probably right, Jasmine. The guys wouldn't be right behind this door. Because if they were, it would hurt when I did this." He suddenly pushed the door over hard and heard it hit something solid. There was a muffled 'Ow!' as the door swung back to close again. Aladdin, amused, hit the door open one last time to hear it hit something seemingly solid.

There was another stifled mutter as three eavesdroppers came around the door, each rubbing a specific part of their bodies, where the door had obviously hit. Genie was the first to respond. "Gosh, Al, I wish you wouldn't have hit the door open so hard…"

Aladdin put a hand to his cheek, acting shocked. "Did I hit you, Genie? I thought no one was there. I mean, no one told me so."

Genie looked up, blushed slightly and then grinned. "No one told you so, huh? Are you hearing things, Al? Do the voices speak to you often?" He turned himself into a doctor, oddly taking after Patch Adams. He pushed a flashlight into Aladdin's face. "Hmm, pupils in good condition." He checked Aladdin's pulse and pulled out his tongue. "Heartbeat good—tongue normal color." He began writing on a tab. "Take three aspirin tonight and don't yell at me in the morning."

Iago walked around Genie's foot (now looking perfectly normal again, with no monkey tail) and held onto his leg to steady himself. "I don't know what's talking to Al, but my head sure is talking to me. It was awfully nice of you, Aladdin, to hit the door twice, by the way. As if the first time the door slammed into my skull wasn't painful enough…"

Aladdin smirked at the parrot. "I thought it was awfully nice of that no one person to be eavesdropping on a private conversation, too."

Iago shook his head and then grinned, suddenly recalling the conversation he heard Jasmine and Aladdin share. "Oh, yeah, Romeo, you were looking good. You should be thankful no one bothered you. One more minute and I think you would've ended up farming. It was getting so corny in there, I'm surprised monkey-boy hadn't rushed in there looking for food."

Abu, who had been leaning on Genie's other foot, growled loudly and jumped for Iago. Iago instinctively flew up and landed on Aladdin's shoulder. He soon wished he hadn't as he was hastily covered in dust. "Geesh, I wonder where you could've been. IN A DESERT MUCH? I mean, just because we live here, doesn't mean you gotta roll around in the sand. First off, it's called a bath; you could've at least showed some thoughtfulness by cleaning up before you came back…" But Aladdin never got to hear the rest. A large, straw bag with CORN written across it abruptly covered Iago's head and he fell to the ground.

They all giggled as Iago struggled to free himself, yelling out every so often. Jasmine, however, was one of the first to stop laughing. Her eyes focused on Aladdin as he continued his laughter, watching his every move. The brims of her eyes glistened with tears and she sighed deeply. He was home at last, and she still couldn't understand how or even why. But Allah had finally decided to grant her deepest prayers and hopes.

Aladdin suddenly became aware that Jasmine had ceased her laughing and looked over at her. She had her eyes closed and was crying silently. Genie saw this as well, and grabbed Abu and the bag with Iago still inside, and quickly hurried into the next room, giving Aladdin and Jasmine some time to themselves.

But he needn't have left—Jasmine simply opened her eyes, moved to Aladdin, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and strode into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Aladdin stood there, staggered, and wondered how long it would be before Jasmine would act normal around him again. After all, he had only been gone for a few months.

* * *

Aladdin had decided he had never slept better in his entire life. He knew that the bed would be soft and comfortable, but he was sure that had nothing to do with it. He was home, he was with his friends, and no matter if he had slept on rocks, he would have gotten the best night's sleep he had ever had.

The desert sun shone brightly behind the cloth substituting a door to the balcony. Aladdin smiled as he got out of bed when he remembered where he was, and when he remembered that he was about to get up and spend all day with the woman he loved and the friends he loved as well.

He quickly cleaned himself and dressed, servants running around to take care of his every need. A new outfit had been left for him, and he swiftly donned the garb before rushing into the hall to find Jasmine. Practically sprinting to see her, he nearly fell on his backside when he turned the corner and collided with her in the hallway.

Aladdin hastily straightened himself and reached down to help her up. "Wow! Hey Jasmine, where's the fire?"

She smiled up at him and bit her lip. "I could ask you the same." Aladdin smirked and then stepped back slightly as Jasmine immediately wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed the side of his head as she grabbed for his hand and pulled him to start walking with her. "Did you sleep well?"

"I think I've never slept better in my entire life."

She continued smiling. Aladdin hoped silently that all of her tears had been dried up. "Good."

They passed a maid who was on her way to see the princess herself. "You called for me, Princess?"

Jasmine and Aladdin stopped. "Yes, Aula. I want you to send this letter for me. I trust you know to whom it is addressed." She handed the woman a letter with a red stamp on it (one Aladdin had failed to notice before), then gave the maid a sharp look. "Send this as fast as you can." Aula nodded and then headed into another hallway. Jasmine continued her pace as though the transaction was a normal occurrence.

"What was that about?" Aladdin asked, as he was pulled along by Jasmine's hand.

"I forgot to send a letter to one of our allies. Father has trusted me with things like that for some time now, and I was foolish to have forgotten."

Aladdin was confused for the umpteenth time since he had gotten back, although his curiosity wasn't strong enough to question anything just yet. Jasmine's brisk tone had caught him off guard. But he had no time to inquire as he and Jasmine walked through the hall and into the dining hall. He saw the Sultan and Genie already there, and he and Jasmine hurried forward to take their seats.

The Sultan smiled when he saw Aladdin and sat him down directly to his right. "Come, come now, my boy, sit down, sit down. Rasoul has just been off to announce to the city of your arrival. I trust you slept well last night?"

"Yes, I did. I don't think I've slept that well in months." Aladdin answered cheerfully, happy to see that the Sultan was acting so nice to him. But the Sultan gave him a curious look, before shaking his head and going on.

"Very good. Well, I suppose breakfast will be served shortly, and then perhaps you can tell us all about your travels, hmm?"

Aladdin smiled at him again as another servant brought out a large platter filled with eggs, breads and everything else under the desert sun that Aladdin could possibly want. He had forgotten exactly how hungry he was last night because of all the excitement, but now his stomach reminded him by growling loudly. He had a bit of everything as small talk was made around the table. Genie enlightened them with jokes they had heard him tell dozens of times (but which all got roaring laughs from the Sultan, who seemed to have forgotten them), and amused them with imitations of Iago when he had looked like Abu.

But after the food was all eaten, and all stomachs were bursting to the brim, the Sultan brought up the subject that everyone (except maybe Aladdin) was anxious to hear. Jasmine, so apprehensive to listen to the topic, hadn't eaten anything at all.

In fact, she looked almost sick. Numbness appeared to have taken over her body, and she sat still, slightly rocking back and forth. Aladdin had noticed immediately, as had everyone else, but the Sultan and the others seemed accustomed to it.

"So, Aladdin. Since your return as of last night, we've all been wondering how you got back." He paused, thinking. "Actually, we were all wondering where you had gone to. I must say, it is certainly surprising to see you alive and well."

Aladdin looked up at the Sultan, confused (what was it, the twentieth time now?). "Surprised to see me alive and well?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean… you were gone for so long… of course we thought you were…" The Sultan gave his daughter a grave look, her rocking stopped at the mention of Aladdin's death. "My boy, you were gone for six long years."

Aladdin's mouth dropped wide open. "Six years?" He turned to Genie. "Six years?"

Genie gave him a strange look, and nodded. "You've been gone for six years, pal. Didn't you know that?"

Aladdin closed his mouth and looked straight at the table in front of him. "I was not gone for six years. Six months, maybe, but certainly not six years."

Jasmine had tears flowing freely down her face now. She even gave a small sob at the thought of Aladdin having only been gone for six months. "You were gone six years. I counted the days myself. 2,264 days, four hours and forty-seven minutes."

The Sultan and Genie gave Jasmine a piteous and knowing look. Aladdin gave a snort. "You counted the days? Jasmine, I was not gone for six years."

She gave another sob, and turned to look at him. "You were gone for six years, Aladdin. I celebrated my twenty-third birthday one month ago. You had your twenty-fourth seven months ago. Rasoul got married, he has a son now. We haven't seen Mozenrath in six years, not after the attack on the oasis. And Mirage? She hasn't been seen since she tried to put the entire city to sleep. Omar had a heart attack; Sadira moved into a near-by city. Saleen tried to take over Agrabah three times, but after she learned you were no where to be found…. And Abis Mal works at one of the casinos in Getizstan. Haroud as well. We think they're up to no good, but Sultan Pasta-Aldente refuses to listen. You were gone for six long years, Aladdin. And I will be damned if you sit there and laugh as though you weren't." She threw her napkin on the table and got up, storming out of the dining hall with a flick of her long hair.

Aladdin sat there for some odd minutes as he absorbed the new information, like a poison. Six years? Mozenrath and Mirage no where to be found? Saleen trying to take over? Six years? Abis Mal and Haroud in a casino? Six years? He was now twenty-four? SIX YEARS?

His head hurt just thinking about it.

Genie and the Sultan whispered to each other quietly as Aladdin banged his head on the table, and the back of the chair, trying to literally rack his brain for the memories.

"Why doesn't he remember?" The sultan whispered discreetly to Genie.

"Could be amnesia."

"But then why does he remember us? And the palace?"

"Could be amnesia for things he doesn't like."

"Then why does he remember Rasoul?"

"Hmmm…. Maybe he's sick. Or maybe whatever happened to him was so bad, he can't remember."

"Perhaps he was stuck in time and was only awakened a little while ago. Like Allah's will caused him to wait six years before returning."

"You've been playing the Legend of Zelda too much. I knew that would be a bad gift… Besides, people don't just get frozen in time. You get banished for that kind of stuff."

"Banished? Why?"

"Union rules. All union rules, actually. The Convention of 2,349,823 BC forbade permanently messing with mortal's time. Or was it moral decline? Anyway, I know it's practically impossible—only REALLY powerful sorcerers can even try that."

"But then that must mean…" The Sultan turned to look at Aladdin, who was sitting still, rubbing his head.

"Yeah…. Al was playing with some big-shot wizards."

Aladdin looked over at them. "Was it really six years?" He whispered, tears coming from his eyes now. They both nodded solemnly at him. He looked away, toward Jasmine's empty seat. But then his head came up, and he threw his own napkin on the table, and ran after the love of his life. "Jasmine!"

He found her moments later in her bedroom, lying flat on her stomach with her face smothered into the pillow as she tried to hide from him. He was sure she had been crying again, and now that he realized why he felt like doing to same. However, he heard no weeping or bawling coming from her, and as he sat down by her side, she turned to face him and he saw that there were no tears to be found on her face.

"Jasmine?" He asked, taking her hand when she turned fully toward him. She refused to look at him. "Jasmine?"

"I've wept all the tears I could a long time ago," was all she said.

He was looking straight at her again, and she wished he would look away. The pressure under his stare increased as the seconds rolled by, and still they both would not say anything.

"I thought I was done crying. I thought I was done being torn in two—that my heart would finally get some rest and stop aching. And then you came back, and it has done nothing but burn all over again."

She finally looked at him, and he at her; their eyes locked and she spoke low, whispering that which only he was to hear.

"Why did you come back?"

He could no longer avoid his own grief, and a single tear bathed his face as it ran down the side of his cheek. He looked away, then back at her, and then away one last time. He could not answer, for he had not anticipated such a question being asked.

"I came back for you. You kept me alive from whatever it was that was keeping me away."

She pulled her hand from his and she looked into her lap. "I was just starting to get used to life without you. I thought there was no way that I could ever live without you when you were gone for so long. I questioned everything—my family, my friends, my life. And yet, somehow, I managed to keep going. Just as my heart was about to close, to retrieve the last piece of it and be whole again, you show up. And all I can think about is how I ever made it without you."

She looked up at him again, and this time pulled his face to look at hers. "I love you still, Aladdin. But I don't understand how you came back, where you even went. I was so worried, at first, when you didn't come home. I thought for sure you had been taken by an old enemy. I searched the entire desert. Then, I was nothing but angry—I was sure you had left me, left me to pursue another life. I thought you had given your love to another, and had forgotten about me. I gave up my search. You were dead for certain; else you would never come home.

"But you did. You did come back, just as I was starting to be happy once more. I do not regret your arrival. I only want answers. Every night I asked myself where you had gone, or if you were safe, dead, or with another. If you were trapped somewhere, lying in the dark, being beaten and I unable to save you. If you were running around the desert with another woman, with another friend. If you had thought I didn't love you anymore, and had simply left."

She was unable to continue further, and both sat there for quite some time, crying together and alone at the same time. They were together, for they were in the same room, but they were alone for both were unable to understand the other after all the time that had passed.

Jasmine wanted answers, but Aladdin could find none. He racked his brain and searched his entire memory for some sort of information, some detail that would remind him of where he had been. But nothing came. It was as if his entire life had simply stopped from when he last remembered Jasmine until now. And that scared him more than anything in the entire world.

Wait—he did remember something… An image of an old man, crippled…. And a young woman, radiant and lovely….

"I remember you, Jasmine. I came back for you. You're the reason my feet kept moving, my heart kept beating; it was all for you. I can't remember where I went. I can only remember your voice in my head telling me to keep going, beckoning me forward like some kind of goddess…"

"Aladdin, I--" Jasmine began, having finally gotten the courage to tell him everything and forgive him for ever leaving, willing to get their lives back together and have the happiness they once had had. But she couldn't finish her sentence. And even if she had, he would not have heard her.

For the horns from the city of Presse were bellowing, and the prince had arrived.

Aladdin stared up at Jasmine and saw the horrified look upon her face. He could not understand why, but she seemed to stutter as the horns continued to blow. It was as if her worst nightmares had just been shown true, and she was unable to stop the catastrophes from occurring—from ruining all that she had hoped and dreamed.

"Jasmine, what is that?" He asked her, waving his hand in front of her eyes in hopes of receiving some sort of response. He got none. Frozen as though she had just looked into the eyes of a gorgon, Jasmine sat, not blinking, not seeing, and not breathing. Aladdin shook her a little and still she did not falter from her pose. He heard the horns blow again and again—and when he had asked Jasmine thrice more for answers, he finally walked over to the balcony to see what was the matter.

What he saw made his memories sharpen. There, on its way to the palace, was a large parade, with horses and elephants, swordsmen and belly dancers, and wealth of the extremes. He saw ribbons and posters, a swirl of red that contrasted with the brown city. All red. The city appeared on fire, the flood of the parade sweeping through the streets and heading straight for the palace. It was a wonder the citizens of Agrabah were not terrified by this new arrival.

But the people seemed most pleased with the parade, and cheered and rooted on the mass of red that was creeping closer and closer to the city. The people applauded the parade as though they had known and hoped it would be coming by, as though they had seen it before and welcomed it always.

It was exactly like the parade Aladdin had used to make his way into the city as a prince. And then it hit him. He looked back to Jasmine who saw him at last, and made a mad rush for the door. Aladdin sprang over to her, blocking her path, and grabbed her arm. She was forced to look at him, and he looked intently onto her face. "Who is that parade for?"

Jasmine, tears threatening once more, merely shook her head. "No…."

Genie suddenly burst into the room and flew to Jasmine. "Jas! The prince from Presse is here and-" He stopped when he caught sight of Aladdin and his mouth fell open. "Oh… hi, Al…"

Aladdin looked to Jasmine to Genie a hundred times in a matter of a few seconds. Then he ceased to do so, because he got a headache from it. Neither one would give Aladdin a look, never mind any answers. "Genie?" He gazed at the ground. "Jasmine?" She gawked at Genie. Aladdin was growing very impatient very fast, and when both had finally looked at him, it was to watch his back as he exited the chamber and headed for the throne room.

He nearly ran through the hallway, pushing past servants and tables, vases and pictures. He ran and ran; his fears and insecurities eating away at him as though he was made of bread. He made it to the entrance of the throne room in record time, and halted at the doorway, hiding himself and listening to the people in the throne room. He recognized the Sultan's voice immediately.

"Ah, yes, Prince Roseau, welcome back…. Though I hadn't expected you back so quickly…."

"The princess insisted on my speedy return, and I dare not keep her waiting."

_Waiting for what?_ Aladdin wondered. _What were they talking about?_

"Well," the Sultan started, "it's never smart to keep my daughter from anything she wants, I'll agree with you there. But I do believe she sent a letter to you this past night, saying she couldn't accept your return so soon…"

"Yes, that I received on my way here. I wondered at her sudden change of will—but that was always one of the things I fancied about her. She has such a strong will, but she doesn't realize that I have one to match. I'm afraid I couldn't stay away from her for so long… and what with the war going on outside my country and everything…the battle has crept to our home front, you see… I was afraid I would never see her lovely face again…."

_Lovely face? This guy talks as though… as if he…_

But Aladdin had heard enough. Without so much as a second thought, he strode out of his hiding place and found himself instantly before the Sultan. The kind old ruler's eyes grew outsized when he realized the young man stood before him, and gasped when he saw the look on Aladdin's face.

Aladdin, confident a moment ago about confronting the two, now didn't know what to say. He looked from the Sultan to the prince, back and forth, forth and back. The prince was surprised at him, and merely peered at Aladdin from his place next to the Sultan. The Sultan nervously glanced at the prince and cleared his throat several times.

If the situation hadn't been so dramatic, Aladdin would have laughed at the tension. He stood before the two richly dressed, royal men, looking between them anxiously, and they stared at him, wondering why he was there. Each man wondered who would be the first to break the silence.

Aladdin, able to see properly now that he was out in the open, stared roughly at the noble man. He was shocked to discover that the prince actually looked a bit like Aladdin. He was taller than Aladdin, with straight, black hair and a wide, bright smile. He had a traditionally handsome face, one that displayed nobility and heritage. He had a long, straight nose, square jaw, and small forehead. His eyes were dark, a deep shade of brown that bordered black. But aside from his appearance, there was an air about the price that pricked Aladdin's nerve. There was something not right with the man, and Aladdin couldn't put his finger on it.

Jasmine suddenly poured into the room, Genie close behind, both trying to catch their breath. "Aladdin…!" She saw Aladdin turn to her when she called to him, and saw the red prince standing just behind him.

When he heard the princess, the red prince was all smiles, forgetting the awkward situation he stood within. "Jasmine! There you are! I was wondering where you had gotten off to." He stepped up to greet her with a grin and a kiss on the cheek. Beyond him, Aladdin glowered.

"Prince… Prince Roseau! Yes, yes you're here… in-in Agrabah… why?"

Roseau chuckled slightly and grabbed one of her hands as she spoke. "Is that any way to greet your fiancé, I wonder? Perhaps it is some strange custom in this city I was not told about, hmm?"

Jasmine laughed tensely at his laugh and turned her eyes to her father, who looked away. She looked at Genie who shrugged a touch, and then to Aladdin.

Aladdin was as frozen as a statue. He kept his stare on Roseau and hardly breathed in and out. Jasmine closed her eyes when the realization hit her—he knew. And she had betrayed him.

Roseau, noticing another uneasy moment, looked around at everyone. "Jasmine? Is everything all right?" Jasmine didn't respond, at all, so he continued further. His eyes met Aladdin's and he gasped in apprehension. "Ah! Where are my manners?" He turned back to Jasmine. "Where are our manners?" He twisted around to face Aladdin and extended his hand. "I am Prince Roseau, of Presse. It's a pleasure to meet you… Aladdin, was it?"

Aladdin looked at Roseau as though he had three heads. He glanced at Jasmine and answered coldly. "Yes, I'm Aladdin. It's nice to meet you, Prince Roseau." He reached out and shook the prince's hand coldly, to the surprise of everyone in the room; the prince seemed pleased.

"So, Aladdin, are you a friend of Jasmine's? Or perhaps Genie's? Or do you…ah…come from the city?" He blushed at his own question. "Sorry…it's just you…"

"Don't look like royalty." Aladdin finished for him. He now gave the prince his full and undivided attention, speaking to him like a new friend. "Yes, I live here, in Agrabah. And I suppose you could say I am a friend of Jasmine's. And Genie's." Jasmine begin to silently cry as she watched and heard the betrayal in Aladdin's voice, and Genie cringed and looked away when he recognized his own disloyalty.

Aladdin was so surprised at such a turn of events, that he wasn't sure how to act. Prince Roseau was here to marry Jasmine. Genie obviously knew him, the Sultan as well. He had been gone six years. And life had apparently moved on without him.

But he was angry. And felt deceived. Jasmine had gone on with her life, and had forgotten about him. Genie was probably best friends with this new guy.

Roseau smiled again and again, as though he had just made a new friend. "Nice to meet you then, Aladdin. But you say you are a friend of Jasmine and Genie, though I have never met you. Have you been gone? Are you visiting for the time being?"

Aladdin stared at Roseau for a prolonged time before answering. "Yes… I was gone a long time. I just returned. But it looks like everything has been changed." He glanced at Genie. "Friends have changed." He looked at the Sultan. "People have changed." Finally, he stared at Jasmine. "Hearts have changed." He looked back at the prince when he finished. "And you, Prince Roseau… have you been gone?"

Roseau gestured in agreement. "Yes, I was gone for quite some time… probably longer than you! There is a war going on outside my city and I have been busy setting up the proper protection, should it suddenly threaten my kingdom." Aladdin wondered at the need for a large parade with a war happening, but Roseau seemed to read his mind, a gesture which made Aladdin even more resentful. "Ah, you wonder at the parade then, eh? I brought many of my servants with me… to get them out of the palace. And, I thought since Jasmine and I are to wed soon, I could bring some of my city's wealth here for safe keeping." Roseau smiled suddenly as he remembered. "But then you must have heard of my engagement to Jasmine, no?" He stroked Jasmine's back as he talked. "So happy I was when she accepted! Therefore, Aladdin, you must come to the wedding! It would be splendid to have a friend such as yourself present!"

Jasmine paled at this while Genie turned white, literally. Aladdin, emotions raging, pulse pounding against this chest and his head, could think of nothing to say in response.

"Roseau…" Jasmine began, but stopped when she realized the familiarity might anger Aladdin. "Prince Roseau… I don't think this is the time to discuss such things…"

The Sultan caught on quickly. "Yes! I think you're right, dearest. Prince Roseau, you must be tired after all that traveling… would you like to-"

"Well, I am a bit tired, though I think I should have a good night's rest tonight. Aladdin, have you eaten breakfast yet? Would you like to stay for the meal? The food here is always excellent."

Aladdin almost laughed, but stopped short. "No, I think I should get going. I'm sorry for rushing off so soon, Roseau… but I must be getting back home. I think I wore out my welcome here anyway. Genie," he said, nodding to the jinni, "Sultan," who sighed in response. "Good-bye." And with that he walked out of the palace, letting her go. Without so much as a goodbye to Jasmine. Without so much as an angry word or a soft tear.

Roseau waved goodbye to Aladdin as he gaited out of the large, blue palace doors. He then turned to the remaining, and beamed. "He was very nice, wasn't he? We'll have to have him over sometime again." He patted Jasmine' back and walked her to the menagerie. "Now, Jasmine, I must tell you all that happened at Qatar, it was truly remarkable the stories they told…"

And Jasmine walked away with the prince. Without so much as a goodbye to Aladdin. Without so much as an angry word or a soft tear.


	2. Gone, part II

* * *

Aladdin finally felt six years of toil and labor catch up to him. He slowly slumped to the ground outside of the gates of the palace, and entertained the thought that in six years he was back in the same place he had started. Aladdin felt cold, he felt feverish, but he could feel nothing. Emotions ran rampant throughout the street rat's body, and he could feel nothing except the constant bleeding of his heart.

Images surrounded his thoughts, swimming through his mind over and over and over again. The Red Prince, kissing Jasmine… the love in his voice…. The love in her eyes…. The love which Aladdin had lost forever.

He got up to his knees, and then his feet, and then trudged his way back to his hovel, taking back alleyways to avoid the crowds. He needed to just sit down and think, and could only do that in his home, where he truly belonged.

Damn Omar, he thought. He was right. I should have gone to my home first.

Feelings of betrayal, mixed with treachery, fluttered through Aladdin's heart as he climbed the narrow steps above the streets. How could Jasmine fall in love with someone else? How could Genie have let this happen? Where had Aladdin been in the last six years?

As if his lack of memory hadn't been enough, now Aladdin realized his entire life had been turned upside down. He scanned the city streets as he climbed, higher and higher, across roof tops and balconies until he reached his home. Everything was different, and he had failed to notice. The people were not the same. The scenery had altered. And all the while Aladdin felt stuck in the past, where the poor die from change.

Hours later he reached his hovel and Aladdin fell to his knees and cried out in angst. He felt helpless, paralyzed by the fear and loss that so quickly cut him that morning. He had lost his friends, his love, and his life, and he had no idea where to go or what to do. A void filled the stiffness of his bones and numbed his body, forcing him to breathe in and out, clearing his mind. But her face kept popping back into his head, her voice filled his ears like a syrup, sticking in his mind until he could no longer see anything or remember anything except Jasmine.

Aladdin stood up quickly, the images eating away at him and he searched desperately for something to kick. Nothing in his hovel was worthless enough to destroy, and thus Aladdin merely kicked the air. Anger and disgust sizzled on his skin; the thought that he had nothing to waste filling him with envy and resentment. He thought of the riches and splendor that Roseau probably blanketed upon Jasmine—thought of the gifts and gems he could give her… the gifts and gems he probably already HAD given her….

"Oh…why me?"

Aladdin hung his head and ran his dirty fingers through his even dirtier hair. He cursed once more at his situation, and at his poverty. Why couldn't he be rich and live gloriously? Why had fate long ago decided that he was forever destined to be poor? That he would dream and wish everyday for fate to deliver to him security and happiness, only to have exactly that ripped from his very hands. How was he supposed to match Roseau with luxury and opulence, when he couldn't even afford food?

He had defeated monster upon monster upon sorcerer. He had vanquished evil demons and saved towns and cities every other day. And yet he still could not be considered good enough to marry a princess. Why? Why couldn't he simply have been born wealthy and handsome and charming? Why did he have to work for what he wanted? He thought of the comforts Roseau probably enjoyed everyday and knew that his own comforts paled in comparison. In fact, Aladdin thought all his features paled in comparison with those of Roseau. The red prince had wealth, power, charm, beauty and intellect. And most importantly, he had Jasmine.

Aladdin flopped down on the stone steps of his hovel and closed his eyes. He could think no longer. His mind kept telling him his love was lost forever and his heart kept dying with each second the red prince remained in Agrabah. Aladdin could take no more for the day.

"Oh… I'm a fool."

"Ha! I think I've heard that one before."

Aladdin opened his eyes widely at being addressed to and look around for the source of the loud voice. He saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Iago lying on his back, stretched out on a nearby pillow. Aladdin turned back around and closed his eyes again.

"You know, you should really look into getting some things that are replaceable around here. I saw you kick the air there a minute ago and you should be lucky 'ole blue-boy wasn't around to take a picture. That was something you certainly don't see everyday. I can see it now: Aladdin, the Air-Hater." Aladdin gave no response to this save for a deep and sorrowful sigh. But Iago wasn't through just yet. "What's a matter with you? The desert take away your sense of humor?"

Aladdin groaned. "Yes, Iago, I came back from the desert but forgot my sense of humor. Forgive me if I don't laugh at every attempt at a joke you make."

Iago chuckled and then stood up and walked around the hovel. "You know, anyone else would take that as an insult, but not me."

"What do you take that as?"

"Good teaching. Anyway, I bet that if that red prince was here, you'd have something to say."

Aladdin opened his eyes at the mention of the name. He turned to look at Iago. "What do you mean?"

"I saw you and that Roseau guy all buddy-buddy at the palace. That guy has been mentioning you every three seconds since you left. Seems to think it was 'unique' that Jasmine was friends with 'such an interesting individual'. He seriously thinks he made a new friend! What a bozo, honestly."

Aladdin's eyebrows knotted for a moment. "You're not friends with him too?"

Iago rolled his tiny eyes. "Please. If some new guy came around saying how 'Novel it was that a parrot could talk' would you like it? He goes around thinking that a flying carpet is spectacular, the monkey is cute, and I am just the most fascinating parrot he's ever met. Sometimes I just want to-" Iago made some rude gestures in the air, "and then some of this, and a little of that and BAM." He flew over to land on Aladdin's knee. "Course, I knew I wouldn't like him anyway. He thinks he can take the place of the greatest friend a guy could have and get away with it? He's got nothing on you, Al."

It was Aladdin's turn to laugh now. "HE hasn't got anything that I have? Like what, fleas?"

"First off, we sprayed for insects in here a little while ago, so if you find fleas then the Genie is going to get a few choice words. Second, that guy hasn't got any of the good qualities you do. And third, he has nothing on your hair. Seriously. That guy WISHES he had your wavy thing going on."

Aladdin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. He wanted to hear more about Prince Roseau from Iago, his seemingly only friend and ally in the matter. Iago may have been rude, temperamental and annoying, but he spoke with such candor that Aladdin trusted him. At least as long as the parrot spoke badly about the red prince; Aladdin starved with a hunger to learn more about the red prince, and everything that had occurred while he had been away.

Iago took notice of Aladdin's reserve, and thought it was best to continue. "Besides, that guy is a regular chump. I mean, I saw all the other suitors Jasmine got before she met you, and each one was as stuck-up as a cow-lick. These guys ate, drank and lived annoying. And…when you…when you left, this Roseau comes in and acts all haughty-ha-ha. He's rich, but he doesn't flaunt it; he's powerful, but he doesn't show it; and he's handsome, but he doesn't play it. The red prince is everything a regular princess could want." Iago hopped off Aladdin's knee and onto the ledge. "But it's a good thing for you that Jasmine is no regular princess." He fluffed up his feathers and stared out at the palace and the sunset all swirled into a mass of color and emotion. "Look out there, Al. What do you see?"

Aladdin barely turned his gaze, but did manage to take a peak out the window before closing his eyes again. "The palace."

"And that's it? You don't see anything else?"

Aladdin sighed and opened his eyes to stare out at the view Iago was insisting on. "I see the palace and the sun setting. I see the city peaceful and quiet. I see the moon beginning to rise. I see my life as it used to be before I left." Aladdin started to choke up once more. "I guess life doesn't wait for anyone, huh?"

Iago sat down on the ledge and kept his stare out at the spectacle. "Life is always moving. It doesn't stop when you want it to and it doesn't end when you need it to. Life just keeps going and if you don't catch up to it, then you're going to get left behind."

Aladdin turned to look at Iago now. "What do you mean?"

Iago avoided Aladdin's eyes and maintained his stare. "You wanna know what I see when I look out of this window? I see your path. You stayed here, on the outskirts of the city where you grew up, and were safe. And now your life is starting to take you toward this huge obstacle."

Aladdin looked out the window. "The palace…"

"The palace is this big obstacle lying dead smack in your path. Now look to the left. There's cliffs on the side. And the right? You got cliffs. So where you gonna go?" Iago said, finally looking up at Aladdin. "You can't go the right way and you can't go the left way. You can go back, but where would that lead? No, you got no choice but to go straight. Through the palace. Through your obstacle. And you've only one choice on what to do when you get there. Conquer it."

Aladdin's gaze got foggy. "Conquer it…" he murmured.

Iago flapped his wings and flew out the window. He began to fly to the place that had held his gaze for so long, but suddenly stopped short and turned back to face his old friend, still in the air. "You know, when you left everyone was dead without you. Jasmine lost that happiness she had when you were around, Genie wouldn't even attempt to attempt being funny, the monkey wouldn't even fight me, and I was actually NICE to people. Do you have any idea how much that tarnished my reputation? You gotta stick around, because I have a tough guy, short-tempered, selfish façade that I gotta keep up." Iago began to turn around again, but over his shoulder, he managed to call out one thing. "The red prince wants to have you over tomorrow night for dinner at the palace. Dress nice, 'cause this guy throws one heck of a party." And with that, he was gone into the mist of the sunset.

Aladdin's eyebrows knitted in thought, and he followed the direction of Iago's flight, and then looked over at the palace again. It was a sort of obstacle, Aladdin mused, and in a way he had no choice but to go through it.

Aladdin had already thought of leaving, but the image of him by himself, making his way through the desert was more than he could bear. He couldn't imagine living without his friends, and the people he had grown to love. Heck, he would even miss Rasoul. No, running away was not the answer. It never was, and Aladdin knew he could never leave his home in Agrabah, surrounded with the people he cared for the most.

But then how was life going to be now? Would he even see his friends anymore? Would he get to laugh at Genie clowning around, would he get to go on treasure hunts with Iago, have Abu around when he stole to eat, have Carpet take him to places he had never dreamt of visiting? Would he even get to see Jasmine every so often, have the Sultan lecture him, have the guards give him dirty looks? What was his life going to be like now that everything was changed?

And what of Iago's invitation? It was really Roseau's invitation, but even thinking the name got Aladdin's face turning different shades of angry. Should he go? What would he see if he did? Would Jasmine side with Roseau, and be wrapped up in him all evening? Would everything be tense and overwrought, so that no one enjoyed themselves? Aladdin knew HE at least wouldn't enjoy himself… not unless the candle-holder caught Roseau's head on fire… but what about everyone else?

A pain tore at Aladdin's heart as he continued thinking, and he was not sure he should be angry, saddened, or both. Was he angry with Jasmine? He knew he couldn't be. She meant too much to him—and she hadn't really betrayed him. If anything Aladdin felt as though he betrayed her: he was the one who had been gone for so long, and he was the one who had left her, without ever saying goodbye. He had disappeared entirely for six long years, and it would be selfish to expect anyone to wait that long for his return. He wanted Jasmine to be happy, even if that meant she was to be with another man. He would fight for her, no doubt about that, but if he saw that she was truly happy with Roseau, then Aladdin would immediately back off. At least he could say that now.

Aladdin paced the floor of his hovel, going up the steps, down the steps, ducking his head past the low beam hanging, and then back. He wasn't sure he should go. He had a feeling that the red prince actually liked him, which he thought was odd, so it most likely wasn't a trap. And Aladdin thought for sure if it was, Jasmine at least would have put a stop to it. Then maybe it wasn't a trap? But then why would Roseau want Aladdin over? Did he know the truth, and want to know more about the street-rat? Aladdin knew he wanted to know more about Roseau. That was a perfect reason for going. He could possibly find a hidden secret about the prince and expose it to win Jasmine over. But then could he do that to Roseau?

Most definitely.

Aladdin, absorbed in his thoughts, finally walked into the low hanging beam and fell to the floor. He rubbed his head at the source of the pain, but it barely crossed his mind. He was only focused on tomorrow evening, when the real climax would begin, and the real pain would start.

Jasmine paced the floor of her own room. Her troubles wrapped around her and suffocated her mind and body, stopping her from all other thought besides the constant question of 'why?' She was so caught up in the moment of thought, that she hardly noticed the soreness of her feet, and instead kept walking, kept thinking, kept hurting.

Aladdin had showed up and she had been powerless to stop him from finding the truth. As soon as she saw Aladdin, she was sure she could simply forget about Roseau and live her life as it was prior to Aladdin's disappearance—happy, loved and in her own private fairytale. She could have left everything, the moment she saw Aladdin's tired face, and wanted nothing except to rush to him and soothe away his weary fears and sorrows. She wanted nothing except to go to him and be by his side, and forget all else. All else didn't seem to matter.

She was sad at first, seeing his face, and then angry. He had left her, and she had died when she could not find him. She had died in mind, body and soul, and she could feel nothing but helpless. For years she had stopped caring about anything save finding him and bringing him back. She had been a dead body, who couldn't fight a fly, and who couldn't react to anything she saw, heard or felt. Her life had been swept dry like the wind swept the desert, and her heart felt as dry as the desert, too.

Aladdin had left her and she had been alone. She had known before that any life without Aladdin would be no life at all, and she had learned that when he had disappeared. Six years she had paced her floor anxiously, wondering where he could be; six years she had hardly laughed at anything; six years she had cried through the long nights and even longer days; and six years she had been without her rock, her happiness, her other half. And now he had returned, just as she was starting to put her life together and feel better again.

Jasmine felt horrible about her treatment of Aladdin when he had come back. She had been cruel and selfish towards him—she had sheltered her feelings inside herself and had not let him into her heart all over again. She had practically told him that his presence was unwelcome, that he should leave her alone and let her continue to get over her grievance and move on with her life.

But then what life did she have without him? She had Roseau—a man that had won her heart before she could even put it back together—and she was happy with him. He was intelligent, charming, and handsome. She let him into her heart before she had even put it back together. And yet, she had a strange feeling when Aladdin had returned; it was as if her feelings for Roseau had not actually been genuine when compared to her feelings for Aladdin. But she had betrayed Aladdin completely and undeniably.

Wasn't that right? She had betrayed Aladdin; gone against him and fell in love with someone else. She certainly felt guilty about it. Even though he had gone, she still should have waited longer… she should have waited longer than six years… for the rest of her life? Was she supposed to have waited forever for him to return? She thought herself able to handle that, waiting for eternity, because deep down she knew that Aladdin had never really left her. She hoped and prayed to Allah every night for six years that he would return. And he had.

Jasmine stopped pacing and put her hand over her mouth. She was almost getting sick just thinking of the situation. With her other hand, she felt behind her for her bed, and upon touching the corner, sat down and closed her eyes, trying desperately to clear the desolate thoughts from her mind.

But she had no choice but to think. She had to think about the places Aladdin had gone, the things he had been forced to endure, and the enigma shrouding his disappearance. He hadn't even realized he had been gone! His memory was blank and she felt even guiltier about it for some reason. Where had he gone to? What had he seen? Why had he left?

Why hadn't she waited for him? Why had he come back now? Why did he act as though nothing was wrong? Was there something the matter with him? Was he sick? Had he been held prisoner somewhere? He had been made a slave in a distance land? Who had taken him away from her those six years ago?

And the big question in everyone's mind: did she still love him?

Jasmine heard a knock at the door and sniffed a little before answering the sound. "Yes? Who is it?"

"Jas? It's me, Genie… can I come in?"

Jasmine proceeded to wipe a few tears away from her eyes before she responded. "Yes, Genie… come in."

A large blue head poked into the room, surveying the sight, before Genie fully appeared. He closed the door behind him. "I thought I heard someone-" he saw the glaze of tears still evident on Jasmine's cheeks and stopped. "Oh—never mind." He floated over and sat on the other corner of Jasmine's bed, getting her attention. "What's the matter, Jasmine?" He looked in front of him when he realized what he had just said. "I guess that's a really stupid question, huh? Let me try this again… Jasmine! You've just found out that the love of your life has recently returned from the dead and your new fiancée wants to tie the knot soon! What are you going to do next?"

Genie watched Jasmine's eyes well up, and then literally kicked himself for not realizing the sensitivity of the moment. "Sorry…"

"No, Genie, it's okay… I have no idea what I am going to do…" She looked over at him quickly. "What do I do?"

Genie was taken aback slightly. "You're asking me?" Jasmine nodded fervently. "Oh… well…in that case…" He paused for a moment. "I don't know what you should do either."

Jasmine sighed and then stood up to begin her pace about the floor again. "I can't forget about Aladdin—but I can't forget about Roseau…. Aladdin and I had such wonderful times together, but I've loved the time I've spent with the red prince…. Aladdin left me when he swore on his life he never would-" she held up a hand at Genie's near interruption, "but Roseau hasn't been around long enough to make those types of promises…." Jasmine stopped suddenly and her shoulders slumped. "Oh… what am I going to do?"

Genie merely shrugged. "I say follow your heart. But then that's what I'm supposed to say right? That's what the general advice usually is? 'Go with the one that your heart wants the most, and forget about all other temptation.' Isn't that right? But I personally say that if you truly love someone, then there are no other temptations… that everything would make sense automatically, and thinking would have to find a job somewhere else."

Jasmine leaned against her vanity. "Then does that mean that I never really loved Aladdin? That the time we spent together was a waste—that we were both lying to ourselves when we confessed our love?"

Genie stuck his tongue out at that. "No, of course not… there wouldn't be any temptation if you WEREN'T human. But you are, and there are always temptations. Not to say that Roseau is a Temptation… no, he's more of a sour Skittle… and Al's more of a Tootsie-Roll, I think…"

Jasmine ignored Genie's references to things she could not fathom and brought the conversation back to their century. "Then what am I supposed to do? Keep my promise to Roseau and marry him, forgetting about Aladdin and everything he's meant to me and all the joys I've shared with him…? Or shun Roseau and lie to myself about all the wonderful feelings I have with him?

"It's hard, Genie. Aladdin abandoned us. He left without saying a word, and we followed all those dead ends to find out where he'd gone… But those little promises left me colder than I've ever been before. I just stopped the terror from those six years of uncertainty and war, suspicion and pain. And now I'm afraid again. What happened to him, Genie? Why can't he remember anything? What happened in the desert that made him forget?

"And why did he come back now? I know it sounds dreadful, but I can't keep thinking how I was so close to some semblance of happiness, and Aladdin took it away again. Why would he just return right before my wedding?"

Genie stared at the ground during Jasmine's speech. He spoke up when he saw the Jasmine's probing looks, which yearned for answers. "I don't know, Jasmine. Aladdin must have disappeared and returned for a reason. But we can't blame him for it. Think about things from his point of view: he's been gone for six years, but can't remember a thing. He left his friends and loved ones without every saying goodbye. It's not like him. He wouldn't have just left. There's a reason for it, and Aladdin doesn't have the answers. Think about how scared the poor man is now. He has no past, and now he's come back to his life and everything's been flipped upside down."

Jasmine nodded in agreement, sitting down upon a cushioned chair. "I know, Genie. It's not fair for anyone. I just feel betrayed, but then so does Aladdin, huh?" Genie nodded. "Then why am I supposed to do?" How could she let him go?

Genie shrugged once more. "It's obviously not something you're going to be able to decide in a day… just give it some time. Time is all you need. Or was it love?" He saw the widened expression on Jasmine's face. "But you already have too much of that, huh? Not to say that too much love is a bad thing, just when there's too many people…" Jasmine's eyes widened even more. "But then we need more people in the world who love each other…and one less you loves you I'm afraid…." Jasmine closed her eyes now and waved Genie off. "Yeah, I should go before I have to eat my other foot too. 'Night Jas, and remember—time is all you need. Or was it-" But Genie had already glided through the door by then, and Jasmine had hardly taken notice.

Her mind was on more important matters—what she should do, who she should be with, and who she was going to hurt in the end, herself already included.

What was there to do but wait?

Aladdin struggled to straighten the collar on his outfit for the fifth time. It looked fine already, to him at least, but he wanted it to look great. HE wanted to look great. The pressure of being compared to Prince Roseau was already too much to bear, and Aladdin wanted to make sure he looked sophisticated enough to impress the man. He wanted the red prince to know that he wasn't just some street rat, or some urchin, but a man just as good as any and worthy enough to be welcomed into the palace.

Aladdin clapped his hands nervously before rubbing them together. The small cracked mirror in the corner of his hovel showed a young, well dressed man, who had a nervous, almost nauseous look about him. Was that even him? Yes, he could see his eyes through the mess that was his appearance. But they were worn down, tired and sagged under his eyebrows. Aladdin lightly slapped the side of his face to bring some color to his pallid cheeks, but all he got were a few red marks on his face.

He began pacing again. It was his newest hobby. Pacing meant thinking, and thinking meant pacing. The two went hand and hand and Aladdin wondered whether he would ever be able to think without walking when this was all over.

Would it be over tonight? He hoped so, even prayed for it, but knew deep down that the tribulations for him were only just beginning. Having been through six years without ever knowing what he was doing, he knew that he was past due for more problems and more enemies and more attacks. The question was whether the attacks would be on his body or his heart. Or both.

Jasmine was the main concern now, just as she had been since the first time Aladdin has seen her. For one glorious year he had been with her and loved her without anything disturbing that love. He had been happy, prosperous, and he had been ready for anything that life threw at him, and often life had thrown armfuls at him all at once. But now things were different. Things were changed. Things would always been changed.

Would Jasmine want to be with Roseau now, or Aladdin? The hero had mused all day about how things had probably been easier when Jasmine had been with Roseau. With Aladdin, she had always been running around, fighting villains and monsters, and saving town and child. Roseau probably still brought Jasmine adventure, but not danger. Jasmine was probably happy with Roseau, for he, more than likely, had never endangered her life.

Sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time since returning home, Aladdin sat down in the corner of his hovel and stared at the dirt on the floor. He had always tried to keep the place clean, but never could manage it. Thinking of how foul his life was, and how miserable he was now, Aladdin did the involuntary thing he had done since he could remember: he turned to look at the palace.

Whenever he had been upset, angry, sadden, or even content, Aladdin would look out at the palace and feel enlightened. His mood would change as the sands change with the winds; he would feel better about himself instantly. Looking at the palace, he remembered his dreams. He would see the towering mark of splendor and know that someday he would have one to rival it- he wasn't always going to be a street rat, and he wasn't always going to marvel at other people's riches and glory. He would soon find his own.

Aladdin rolled his eyes, thinking for a moment that anyone else might consider him fully glorified. He was a hero, after all, right? Aladdin, arms folded in front of him, looked down at the street below him, where bursts of people were coming and going, paying little attention to him. Like always. He wondered if they would see him if he suddenly became the Sultan of Agrabah. But then thinking that got his heart aching, and he was forced to turn his attention and focus in on a little boy, no more than eleven, who was wandering around in the street below, playing with a little wooden sword.

"Ha! And that! Watch out for me, you scurvy, plundering jackal! I got you now!" He went about, thrashing his sword around, nearly hitting the people around him, who had to duck out of the way to avoid getting clobbered. He yelled out a quick apology to each as he continued. "Sorry, Miss Fashoda! Oh, I'll get you next, you sundering knight! Going after innocent ladies, eh? We'll see about that!" He kept leaping forward, as if to stab an invisible enemy, one only he could see and hear. "What's that? You surrender? Ha!" He threw his sword into the air, arms lifted. "Saty wins again! I am victorious!" He went about, flapping his arms and dancing around.

"Satyagraha! Just what do you think you are doing?!" A very angry middle-age woman, apparently the boy's mother, jogged up and took the sword away from him. "I've told you not to play with your sword in the middle of the street! You could hurt someone!"

"But Momma!" The boy protested. "I need to train to become a brave hero!"

The mother put her hands on her hips, with a doubtful look shrouding her features. "Oh, is that so? I suppose you know, then, the very first rule of becoming a hero?"

The boy looked surprised. "There are rules? What's the first one?"

The mother grinned slightly, but kept a stern look. "The first rule of becoming a hero is this: always listen to your mother." She went to grab the boy by the arm to lead him away, but the boy jumped back.

"No it's not!" He laughed his child's laugh. "That's not the first rule!"

"Oh?" asked the mother, hands on her hips again. "Then what do you think it is?"

The boy paused for a moment, and Aladdin almost wanted to yell out to him, but contented himself by simply watching the pair. "Um…." The boy, however, looked up abruptly and saw Aladdin. "Hey! I bet he knows! He's a hero!"

The mother looked up and caught Aladdin's stare. "How do you know that, Saty?" She muttered, seeing Aladdin, but not wanting him to hear her.

"I seen him! I seen him on his flying carpet! Do you have a flying carpet, mister?" Aladdin, taken aback, nodded his head slowly. "See! I told you. I seen him on his magic carpet, that flies around!" The boy spread out his arms and ran around his mother, imitating a bird. "Zoom! And he fought off monsters too! Huh, mister, you did, huh!"

Aladdin looked over at the mother, and saw that she was again sporting a doubtful look on her face, as though she doubted that Aladdin had fought off anything except angry merchants. But she soon saw that he was not wearing torn rags or simple clothing, and glanced at her son quickly.

"I think we should be going now, Satygraha. Stop annoying the rich man and let's go."

"No Momma! That man is a hero! Tell her mister! Tell her!"

Aladdin smiled at the kid, and thought for a moment. He shrugged his shoulders and then called out to the pair. "Do I look like a hero to you?" He asked, almost intrigued by this concept.

The boy pulled away from his mother, who was trying to lead him away again, and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Yeah! I seen you! You saved the people! I seen it! You're…" he cast a surprised look for a moment. "I don't know what your name is." He shrugged.

His mother, anxious, tried to talk him away. "Saty, you were too little. I've not seen this man for some time, and I think you can not remember him. You were too little."

The boy turned to his mother. "I was a kid then, Momma, but I remember! That's the hero I talked about before! That's him! Remember me talking about him Momma? Remember?"

The mother looked up at Aladdin, mysteriously. "I remember him, Saty, but you should not. You were too little."

Aladdin simply stared at the pair, afraid to speak again. He didn't want to scare them away. But the young boy was almost through.

"That man is a hero. I know his is. I seen it. I seen it. And when I grow up, I want to be just like him!" He waved to Aladdin and then grabbed his sword from his mother before taking off down the street towards his home, calling out "Bye, Mr. Hero, bye!" as he went. His mother, surprised and yet relieved, gave Aladdin one last, solemn look. Then, shocking Aladdin, she bowed her head slightly and followed her son around the corner.

It was bizarre to Aladdin that some strangers he had never seen before had thought of him so highly—as if they knew him when he didn't even know himself. He chuckled at the boy, so much like himself when he was young. Aladdin hadn't really dreamed of being a hero, like the little boy, but he knew his passion and knew his dreams just as he knew his own. The little boy reminded Aladdin of his past and times gone by, where everything had made sense and his heart had been full and untouched. His heart had been full, but not of love. It had been untouched, but not in a good way. Aladdin had had no friends, no companions, and no one to love or to love him in return. He had nothing, as he did now.

Abruptly came the noise that Aladdin almost knew had been coming: the noise of ten-thousand year old magic coming to life. Aladdin turned his out-of-focused stare from the street to the inside of his hovel, where he saw a lot of blue in a little space.

"Honey, honey, honey…. You aren't actually going to wear that, are you? Fashion rule number 33- never match gold with gray. And the hair—could you have used enough mousse?" A female version of Genie, who looked almost like Melissa Rivers, was standing next to Aladdin, turning him around and examining his outfit. She/he ran her/his fingers through Aladdin's hair and then pursed his/her lips together. "Okay, so you didn't even use mousse…well, I have to say, for this type of occasion and with your facial structure, I would have avoided the turban, but what can I say, you're the man!" Genie picked up Aladdin's turban, gave it a twirl as though it was a basketball, and then neatly placing it on Aladdin's head again.

"You're sure this is the right outfit though? I don't have to escort you to the fashion police?" Aladdin looked at him, bewildered, and wondering what on Earth the 'fashion police' was.

"I think I look okay…" then Aladdin remembered what Genie had done, and dropped his casual, out-of-habit manner with the jinni. "Why, did Roseau already wear this last season? Am I not allowed to wear the same things as the red prince, in all his might and glory?"

Genie popped back into his regular form and looked away from Aladdin. "I didn't mean it like that, Al… I was only kidding…"

Aladdin shrugged angrily. "Well, did he wear this last season? Did he wear something like this when he met Jasmine? Was he wearing this when he replaced me?"

Genie stepped back a pace before looking up at Aladdin. "He's never worn anything like that before. And he could never take your place."

Aladdin chortled irritably. "Oh yeah? Then why is he hanging out with my friends, roaming through my city, loving my girl? Why does everyone like him better than me? Why does everyone want to be with him instead of me? Why?"

Genie laughed unexpectedly at Aladdin's bitterness. "When Iago said you were a bit grouchy, I had no idea he meant this much."

"Hey, I can be grouchy when I want to be grouchy." Aladdin folded and then unfolded his arms from in front of his chest. "Just how am I supposed to act when I come to find out that I've been gone for six years, I have no idea where I've been, and some late suitor comes and steals away my whole life in a matter of weeks?"

Genie waved off in objection. "He's been here longer than a matter of weeks." He sighed when he heard the words come out of his mouth, and laughed anxiously. "I mean, he HASN'T been here for a matter of weeks…he he…"

Aladdin sat down again and looked out at the palace once more. Genie stood there, however, thinking of what he could do to cheer his friend up when even he felt depressed at the thought of Roseau taking Aladdin's place. "Well, look on the bright side! At least you'll always have your keen fashion sense…" Aladdin didn't respond at all. "Um… yeah…" Genie was getting sadder and sadder with every moment he looked at his broken down friend, and got more and more helpless. "Do you have any salt, because I think it would go great with my foot right about now…"

Aladdin turned his head ever so slightly and looked at Genie with a stare that could have broken anybody. Genie saw the most sadness in Aladdin's eyes than he ever knew existed. It was almost as if Genie could SEE Aladdin's troubles, floating around in his deep, brown eyes, and SEE his hardships prominent in the whites surrounding the brown. It was frightening, and Genie couldn't really take anymore of it.

"For Allah's sake, Al! Snap out of it! You haven't lost yet! Remember the time Prince Uncouthma came to town? And you and I both thought that you were going to lose Jasmine? What did you do? You fought for her and won!" Aladdin shook his head, refusing to believe Genie's words.

"She didn't really hate me, though… she was only trying to get me jealous…"

Genie rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay then… what about when you first met Iam Aghoul? And he was going to lock Jasmine up in his great big, butt-ugly palace and make her his bride? You fought then and you won!"

Aladdin shook his head again. "Only because you helped. I keep beating myself up over it and never would have saved her had it not been for you."

Genie, desperate and annoyed, kept going. "What about when Sadira tricked you into being her knight in shining armor? Or when Saleen tried to lock Jasmine under the sea so she could steal you away from her? Or when Abis Mal tricked Jasmine into thinking she was the scourge of the desert? What then? You fought for her Al, and every time you won! Why would now be any different?"

Aladdin was starting to get pretty angry, and pretty upset. "I won those times Genie because I knew that Jasmine loved me as much as I love her. But now IS different, Genie. Now, you can't help me, now she can't help me…now no one can help me if I'm not in her heart. No one can help me win her back because she can't be won back. Not now… not when she has joy and happiness at her fingertips. Not when she is close to the thing she has been longing for since before I met her… not when she has love."

Genie sank into the ground and his shoulders fell. "Man, you really know how to bring a guy down…"

Aladdin wiped a single tear from his face before Genie could see. He saw anyway. "Jasmine has this whole new life now… and I want her to be happy… but I want to be the one to make her happy. I want to love her and be there for her. I want to be the guy I was six years ago."

Genie shook his own head now. "What, missing in action? Aladdin, what Jasmine needs right now is for things to stop being shook up. When you left it was as if Jafar had stuck her in an hour-glass again: she was in the frail spot, where she could only see just beyond the glass, and where to sands of time were slowly swallowing her up. She's been like that since you left. Being with Roseau has brightened her days, I'll tell you that, but it hasn't made her the same as before. She hasn't been the same happy-go-lucky person she was when she was with you. And she probably won't be until she's back with you."

Aladdin looked over at Genie, who was floating himself out of the floor. "You really think that I can get her back? That we can get on with our lives and be happy again?"

Genie smiled genuinely. "Hey, if a street rat could have come this far…why stop here? Why stop now? Why not win?"

Aladdin smiled slowly, and then shocked himself and Genie when it suddenly spread across his face openly and fully for the first time in a few days. "Yeah… yeah…" He stood up and squeezed his hand into a fist. "Why should I stop now? Just because Roseau is handsome and rich and charismatic doesn't mean that he can beat me."

"Yeah, even if he had a really cool car."

Aladdin looked over at Genie strangely. "What's a car?" Genie shook his head, muttering something like, 'Chicks dig cars, dude' under his breath. "Anyway, you're right, I am the man." He pounded his fist onto the palm of his other hand. "Maybe of constant sorrow… but all that's going to change right now. I'm going to go over to that palace, show them all what I'm made of, and win her back." He grinned enthusiastically and started to walk forward, apparently ready to tackle anything now. Genie quickly held up a hand to halt him though.

"Yeah, you're ready to go… but your clothes aren't. I wasn't really kidding when I asked if you were wearing that." He smiled apprehensively. "I mean… where DID you get that outfit?"

Aladdin looked confused. "I found it in here yesterday."

Genie rolled his eyes and smiled doubly at his friend. "And you're just going to wear that now?" He popped back into Melissa Rivers. "Oh, darling, I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit even if I WASN'T a celebrity. What you need is a bit more color, a bit more class, and a lot more attitude. Remember, you own the room you walk into. At least you do if you're me…" He tapped a finger to his lips, and stuck his tongue out, deep in thought. "Ah ha! I think this is what you need!" He snapped his fingers near Aladdin's shoulder and suddenly Aladdin was wearing a white sailor's shirt with jeans and large, black boots. His fez was missing and he had a forced, prince-like smile about him.

"Ah…Genie…" he said through clenched teeth.

"Hmm, a bit too under the sea and not enough individuality. Keep it if you're searching for a pretty little red-head, but here…" He snapped his fingers and Aladdin's clothes where changed again. This time he was wearing a formal outfit, with shoulder pads on either side, a stiff collar around his neck, as though he were in the military or some form of foreign royalty. But this time he could move his lips and teeth.

"What the…"

Genie cut him off, shaking his head and circling Aladdin. "Tsk, tsk, now you look like every other prince charming… but at least you can choose the blonde or the brunette this time." He snapped his fingers one last time and seemed satisfied. "That's better. It suits you, I think."

Aladdin looked over his clothes and found that he was wearing what he normally wore everyday only… much nicer. His vest was embroidered with gold stitching front and back; his pants were clean cut and, well, clean; his sash was a much deeper, velvety red that fit perfectly; and his feet were covered with nice, dark brown boots. The only thing missing was his fez, which Aladdin absentmindedly tried to adjust.

"I thought it would go better without. Show off your new clean hair." Genie explained. Aladdin ran his fingers through his hair and was shocked to not see any sort of dust or dirt. Genie swirled himself about a bit until he was wearing an ugly gray suit with a blonde toupee falling off his head. "Dirt-Be-Gone! Works well with tile floors, cement walkways, those hard to reach places around the bathroom, and dirty hair! It's only three easy payments of 29.99! And when you act now, you'll also get Doubt-Be-Gone! Works perfectly with Dirt-Be-Gone to free the mind of any doubt and sadness that can accompany poverty and the chance of losing a loved one. Order now!" Genie stopped and changed back into his regular form. "Now go out there and show everyone what Aladdin can really do."

Aladdin smiled, gave Genie a quick hug, and then left his hovel, his destination the palace and his goal to win back the woman he loved.

Aladdin arrived shortly at the palace with fresh optimism in mind and a dazzling appearance to help lift his confidence. He was a bit apprehensive at the thought of confronting Jasmine again, but then comforted at the thought of perhaps winning her back. But if she didn't love him anymore then Aladdin would fight—he didn't know any other way. He couldn't let her go.

He took the steps leading to the throne room three at a time, the excitement and anxiety rushing through his body as he slowly opened the door and peered inside. There was no one in the room, and he cautiously let himself in and closed the door. Now he started to worry. Where was everyone? Was this some kind of joke, or where they holding the party in another room?

At that moment Carpet flew into the room, apparently looking for something. He hadn't really noticed Aladdin, and when he picked up a blood-red, velvet box and turned to exit, Aladdin spoke up so the rug wouldn't leave him behind.

"Carpet! Wait!" Aladdin walked over to the flying mat and smiled tensely. "I'm supposed to be here for this dinner party… and…"

But Aladdin didn't have to say anything else. When Carpet had seen him he flew back in surprise and then circled around Aladdin, excited to see him. Carpet picked Aladdin up off his feat, flying him around the room in a mad rush to remind Aladdin where his loyalties lie. After setting Aladdin down, who was now full of adrenaline, Carpet pointed with one of his tassels to the door on the left and gave a nudge to get Aladdin to follow him.

"They're out there? In the garden? They never used to have parties there before…" But Carpet merely shrugged and began to fly out in towards the fountain. Aladdin, brows knitted, followed closely behind and quickly looked around to see where everyone was.

Perhaps it was because it was nighttime; or perhaps it was because Aladdin was not used to seeing the palace so often, but to him the garden looked completely different. There were lights dazzling the tips of the trees and walkways with gold and red décor lining the tables and chairs. Bouquets of white lilies and red roses adorned the tabletops and the fountain itself was completely unrecognizable. It was now a red color and it was not shaped like a flower anymore, but like a crown—a king's crown with rubies incrusted in the sides. It was a more golden color and lit up the entire garden as though it were a light itself.

Aladdin moved slowly down the steps, trying to take it all in and confused at the change in decoration. Was he even in the same palace? He could see nothing of the original garden now. Where was the birdcage that used to hold doves and other birds to be tended to for wounds and injuries? Where were the apple trees that had given the garden a sense of normalcy? And where was the flower-shaped fountain where he and Jasmine had splashed water and admired from Jasmine's balcony?

He was so lost, that he hardly noticed there were hundreds of other people walking around him and talking busily amongst themselves. But when Aladdin finally heard his name being called out by some far-off voice, he came back to reality.

"Aladdin! There you are!"

Roseau hurriedly walked over to greet Aladdin with a shake of a hand and a pat on the back. "So glad you came! Have you been here long?"

Aladdin stared stupidly at him for a moment and then shook his head. "No, I only just got here."

"Ah, excellent then. You're just in time. We were just about to start dinner and then get on with the dancing."

Aladdin had been looking at the fountain, still in amazement when he thought he heard wrong. "Dancing? Did you say dancing?"

Roseau, always the perky fellow, smiled eagerly. "Yes, dancing! Isn't that marvelous? And I must say," he said, bringing down the volume of his voice and leaning towards Aladdin. "There are quite a few lovely looking ladies here, so I would hurry and find a good one to be your partner tonight." He brought his voice back to a normal tone. "But then speaking of beautiful women, have you seen Jasmine? I'm sure she'd like to welcome you here after she's done with all the guests."

Oh, yes, Aladdin had almost forgotten about Jasmine for a moment, and his eyes searched the crowd for her stunning eyes and long, black hair. He quickly found her amidst a large group of guests, talking to all of them and apparently not worrying about a thing. She kept his stare for so long that it was almost impossible for her not to feel his stare upon her, and when she finally saw him, she stopped talking and held her breath.

Aladdin and Jasmine locked eyes and the entire room disappeared. He could see nothing nor hear anything except her lovely voice and beautiful smile. A stunned expression had crossed her face, as though she hadn't believed he would actually come, and the sudden appearance of her ex-fiancée was more than she could handle. Aladdin drew in a quick breath, as though the princess had just stolen his. They continued to stare, dancing in their own world, so that it was several minutes before Jasmine dared to break the connection and glance down at the floor. But her eyes quickly found Aladdin again still looking at her, for he refused to sever the tie that held them together.

Roseau watched as Aladdin stared and followed his eyes to where Jasmine was. He looked back at Aladdin to clarify the direction of his gaze, and then gave an uneasy laugh. "There she is then. Aladdin…" he said, grabbing Aladdin by the arm and trying to get his attention. "Aladdin?"

Jasmine saw Roseau tugging on Aladdin's arm and turned her mind to one of her guests, who had been speaking and was asking for her opinion on the war. The bond had broken, and try as Aladdin might to reconnect it, he knew he had lost it, at least for the time being.

Roseau, finally able to receive Aladdin's attention, pulled on his arm and pointed toward the open garden. "I don't suppose you'd like to meet with some guests? I wonder if you know anyone here? Come, I'll introduce you to the finest people I know and then we shall commence with the feast."

Aladdin had no other choice but to allow himself to be dragged off by the red prince. Many people stared at him strangely as he walked with the man he barely knew, as though wondering why the prince, with so much wealth and splendor, was walking with a man who did not appear to have a gold coin to his name. Aladdin didn't think he looked too bad—after all, Genie had fixed him up and his clothes were not ragged and grimy anymore. But for some reason, Aladdin had always noticed, those who were rich could tell when one of their number didn't belong; those who were rich could tell that someone was 'new money' and did not maintain the values of tradition and ancestry. Aladdin felt like that now, as hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to examine him with a scornful smile.

Roseau stopped pulling Aladdin around the room and halted in front of an elderly man who had been delighting the group around him with some sort of story. Roseau pulled Aladdin up front and introduced him rather genially to the group and told them all of how they had met.

"…stormed into the palace one day and completely surprised me with his attire and good nature. Opposites, they were, when we met, you see. And then right away we got along so well that I simply had to invite him to the party; he is also a friend of my fiancé." Aladdin found himself ceasing his forced and nervous smile and instead looking at Roseau through blackened eyes. "And a friend of Genie as well. Have you all met Genie? Splendid spirit, he is. Why, look, there he is now, with Jasmine's pet bird and monkey! And there, look, can you see? She also has a flying carpet!" There was a murmur of interest in the surrounding group as they looked over to see the blue, see-through jinnee and the rug that had sailed over Abu to stop Iago from attacking.

"Where did she find such an extraordinary pair? I say, I haven't seen a magic carpet in years!" remarked the older man, as he clapped his hand on Roseau's shoulder in a fatherly way.

"I asked her when I first saw them, and she simply refused to tell me. I have since asked her and the answer is always, 'I didn't find them. They came here.' Isn't that interesting? Honestly, that group has such a good sense of humor beyond anything I've ever seen before! Except perhaps the red bird there—he's a bit temperamental."

The group turned their attention back to Aladdin. The elderly man looked sternly at Aladdin and began questioning him the way a guard would a prisoner. "So, Aladdin was it? How do you like it in the palace? Are you here often?"

Afraid to get the question wrong and witness what the older man would do, Aladdin answered apprehensively. "I like the palace very much. It's a beautiful place, like the market and city around it. I used to come here often a few years ago, but I've been gone for a while and only just returned."

"And where did you return from?" asked a large woman, with diamonds to match her size.

"Uh…" Aladdin thought quickly, not wanting to sound like an idiot in front of all the rich royals. "It's all very dreadful, my past adventures, and it still stings to think about it."

The crowd looked at one another knowingly. "Say no more," the woman said, "not another word on the subject."

Aladdin smiled nervously and tried to bring up the mood a bit. "Have you heard the one about the scorpion and the mad sorcerer…?" but luckily Iago had flapped his way over to land on Aladdin's shoulder before he could continued.

"How are you fine gentlemen and ladies doing this glorious evening?" he asked, his tone oily and full of false charm. "Prince Roseau does know how to throw a splendid party, wouldn't you say?" The group smiled lightly, amused with the characteristics of the talking bird. "Now, I must ask that you excuse my dear friend Aladdin here, as there are others who wish to steal him away from you gracious people." Again, the group smiled and nodded Aladdin off.

Aladdin turned and looked up at Iago, a playful grin and knowing smile on his own face as the pair walked away. "What was that about? Since when did you learn manners?"

Iago retained his oily and fake voice even when talking to just Aladdin. "My dear fellow, when one is around gracious people such as these, one must learn to act in a manner accordingly." He suddenly dropped his voice and tone and found his old behavior again. "Besides, have you seen the jewels these people are wearing around here? A bird like me could use a new home with generous people who like to give all their gold away. Heck, maybe if I act pleasant and charming enough I might find a few jewels adorning my own neck by the end of tonight. You should be glad, too, that I found you when I did. The one about the scorpion and the mad sorcerer? Please, that joke must be older than the idiot over there dressed all in blue." He pointed over to Genie and continued. "I can see that I need to watch you tonight to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself. How will you ever get Jasmine back if you do?"

He had touched a nerve and he knew it. Aladdin sighed and nodded. "I'm trying my best!" Iago raised his eyebrows knowingly, causing Aladdin to sigh. "All right then, Mr. Etiquette, what do I do now?"

The bird chuckled and jabbed his thumb towards the large dinner table to the left. "Dinner is served. Find your name on your place setting and sit down fast." He flew off.

Aladdin walked to the large dinner table that wrapped around the edge of the fountain. The table, covered in silk cloths that were red, white and gold with priceless settings to match, glistened in the light of the fountains as though invisible fairies danced atop its affluence. He thought how silly it was to place people at certain spots ahead of time, and how foolish he must look trying to find his own name. All the others had servants leading them to and from the table, sitting down at their appropriate place and making small talk with their neighbors.

Aladdin quickly spotted his own place and sat down quickly, trying to avoid attention. He was surprised to find it near the head of the table and then sighed tiredly when he recognized whom he was sitting adjacent to. On his left he had the red prince himself, while across from him he had Jasmine. It was exactly the type of situation he wanted to be in: uncomfortable and tense. The only comfort was that Genie was on his right (a familiar face, at least) and the Sultan was on the other side of Roseau.

Aladdin sighed more when he saw who was sitting next to Jasmine: the elderly man from before. Aladdin was anxious to get the feast over with quickly so he could talk privately with Jasmine and get away from the red prince. Roseau was trying to be friendly and kind, Aladdin would grant him that, but the mere thought of Roseau and Jasmine together sent color to Aladdin's already tanned cheeks. He wasn't looking forward to spending nearly an hour sitting next to the man, that was certain.

Finally, the rest of the guests managed to take their seats as they looked for the Sultan to sit down at the head of the table. The Sultan arrived a minute after, dressed in a cool buttery silk from head to toe. He glanced around the table as he passed by, the people he approached standing up to show respect. The Sultan merely smiled and found his way to his seat, where he stood for a moment before gesturing for the entire table to sit and relax. Everyone sat down again, and at once servants began sweeping over the table, with large orders on both hands as they placed the already requested dinners in front of the patrons. Aladdin again looked around anxiously—he hadn't told anyone what he wanted before he had arrived. Would he even get any food? Was he supposed to sit there and look like a buffoon while everyone else enjoyed their meal?

But then a servant came up from behind and laid a plate before Aladdin along with utensils and a glass of wine. Aladdin looked down and saw that the food was exactly what he would have ordered. Confused, he looked up at Genie and then over at Jasmine. She looked at him and nodded slightly before beginning to talk with her father.

Aladdin smiled, thinking he had won a small victory, and ate his food in silence. It was a great moment, sitting there across from Jasmine, both looking at each other every now and then for only a second. Genie kept bursting forth with loud, somewhat humorous jokes that the top of the table enjoyed. Roseau was talking heatedly with the elderly man across the table in a language Aladdin couldn't understand. Not that he wanted to understand, either. He was perfectly content stealing quick glances at Jasmine and laughing occasionally at a joke Genie had made but that Aladdin himself had not heard.

The older man seemed to have noticed Aladdin's presence near his own and stopped eating for a time being to interrogate Aladdin. Aladdin could have gone through the meal without this, but as the older man had gotten Jasmine's attention as well, he tried to seem as though he didn't care.

"So, Aladdin. You say you are a friend of Jasmines' and Genies'. How did the three of you meet?"

Aladdin looked up from his baklava and bit his lip. "Um…well, I found Genie's lamp in a secret underground cave. He was a prisoner to the lamp back then, and he granted me three wishes. But on the third wish I set him free." Aladdin said all of this very quickly to make it less dramatic and to keep some questions from being asked.

They were asked anyway. "Then you were the one who brought Genie here? To the palace?"

Aladdin smiled lightly and shrugged. "Yes, I suppose I did."

The older man's eyebrows lifted. "And why did you bring them here? You'll have to forgive my rudeness, but I've been wondering why on earth you were here so many years ago, as you mentioned."

Aladdin gave Jasmine an inquisitive look, and she suddenly found her own voice. "Aladdin defeated father's royal viser, Jafar, who had made attempts at taking over the throne. Ever since then he's been conquering monsters and defeating sorcerers that threaten the city."

The woman with the large diamonds spoke up when she heard this. "So then Aladdin is the city's hero?"

Jasmine shrugged as she took a sip of her wine. "I believe you could say that. Right, Aladdin?"

Aladdin looked at her, confused again. He felt uncomfortable being called a hero, unsure whether the words had a malicious intent or not. He did shrug, however, and dropped his glance to the tabletop. "I guess you could say that…"

But Genie, listening in on the conversation, wasn't willing to let it go. "You could definitely say that, no question about it! Aladdin is a hero, always has been. Remember the time we defeated the T-Rex and saved the tribe on top of that forgotten mountain? Or the time we took on Mozenrath at Dagger Rock? Or the time we defeated that gang of al-Muddi and saved the trade route? Or the time-"

"Genie…" Aladdin muttered sternly under his breath. "I don't think all these people care about those things…"

Genie looked perplexed. "Why not?" He looked around at the table and softened his voice. "It was a beautiful, sun filled day. Aladdin and Jasmine were walking around an oasis, minding their own business, when suddenly Aladdin was trapped in the dark, smelly black sand. Mozenrath appeared and try as Jasmine might, she couldn't free him. No! It was me he wanted and he kidnapped Aladdin to get to me and my power." Genie stomped his hand on the table. "But Jasmine and I were too smart for him. We went with a small group of guards, disguised, and found our way to Dagger Rock. Only with Aladdin's stubbornness and Jasmine's quick thinking did we make it out alive."

The entire table sat silently captivated by Genie's tale and everyone looked over to Aladdin and Jasmine at the end. The elderly man seemed angered by the story, as realization seemingly dawned upon him. He set down his glass of wine and looked solemnly at Roseau, who kept his gaze on the table. Aladdin had his face in his hands and was focusing on his dinner plate to avoid any stares. Jasmine was advertently looking up at the stars, as though hoping one might come crashing down on the table to put an end to the awkward pause.

Genie, on the other hand, was apparently under the impression that he had just done something obligatory and was hoping for a laugh and a nod from Aladdin. Aladdin, though, did not seem to be able to give him any sort of comprehension.

It was the elderly man who finally broke the silence, and Aladdin was surprised to find that he hadn't even changed his tone. "So Aladdin is the city's hero? How typical."

Jasmine looked over immediately and glared coldly at the man. He shrugged slightly as though he had said a simple, obvious thing and then hastily explained himself when Roseau gave him the same look as Jasmine. "That is, so typical that the poor and kind young man destined for greater things would triumph over such adversity. It is a tale as old as time, as they say. Aladdin, the young hero of the city whom no one thought would amount to anything more than a common thief. He must be the type to always win. Always." He looked at Aladdin with a challenging smile on his face and a hint of superiority in his eyes. Jasmine looked away.

The elderly man was trying to bring down Aladdin, and show the rest of the table—and perhaps even Roseau and Jasmine—that Aladdin was nothing they should be keen on. However, his attempts went in vain, for the lady in the large diamonds spoke up again. "Well, even if the main plot is trite and typical, the storyline can always be different. Aladdin must have braved many adventures and accomplished many things that perhaps even you, Sultan Shahyrar, would not even imagine. I say we let Aladdin share his tale."

The rest of the table seemed to nod slightly in agreement. To Aladdin, and maybe even his friends, it seemed like a trap, and a sly one. Jasmine looked wearily at Aladdin and Genie as though this was something they had to endure, but Aladdin gave the Sultan an importunate look that spoke volumes.

"Er, well, I say that would be a fantastic idea at a later date. Perhaps we could invite you all back sometime to hear it? But I believe that as this is the party to celebrate the engagement of my daughter and Prince Roseau, we should focus more on the happy couple and leave other tales, though delightful they may be, for a bit later." The Sultan spoke firmly and gazed around the table with a look that settled the matter. Aladdin, glad that the Sultan had spoken up for him, nodded his head in agreement before the information hit him in the face.

The party for celebrating Jasmine and Roseau's engagement?

So that was what this was all about: it was an engagement party to celebrate their future marriage. Aladdin put his fork down at the thought, though it had been poised in midair on the way to his lips. He, Aladdin, had been invited to an engagement party for his old girlfriend, whom he still loved, and the man she did now.

The rest of the meal commenced in silent chit-chat amongst the guests. Aladdin, finding he had lost his appetite, merely drank the rest of his glass of wine in silence and waited impatiently for the party to end. It almost changed everything now that the party was to celebrate Roseau and Jasmine's engagement. Could he really try and sweep Jasmine into his arms when she was at an event to cherish a new union of love with someone else? The thought made Aladdin feel guilty and he forced himself not to think about it. Jasmine had been his before, and he had only lost her when this dim-witted prince had arrived showing off his golden camels and purple peacocks. Aladdin argued inside his head that he had nothing to feel guilty about, and that Jasmine belonged to him and not the red prince. But then was that even true? Could he be sure that Jasmine preferred himself to Roseau?

Aladdin's head was so full of questions that had no answers, that he hardly noticed the rest of the table stand and proceed to the other side of the fountain. He was jerked awake and aware by Genie, who had pulled Aladdin up roughly and hissed, "Come on, go and get a dance with Jasmine before Roseau does." Aladdin looked up at him bemused, but quickly strode over to the dancing area, leaving his fears and, unfortunately, his debonair manner behind him.

The dance area had been inlaid with large, smooth bricks that had been placed in a circle. Aladdin stumbled as he stepped onto it, noticing for the first time that it was there. He had little time to gawk however, as the music instantaneously began to play. It was a faster song, Aladdin was afraid, though it would prove the perfect time for him and Jasmine to converse without much eavesdropping. He gazed up hopefully around the circle, as though praying Jasmine was already taken so he could have more time to work out in his head what he was going to say. So far, he didn't have much.

He saw Jasmine instantly. It was like their eyes always knew the exact location of the other. Jasmine had been surveying Aladdin as though hoping he would be the first to ask her, but before she could so much as give him the right look, she was swept away by Roseau, who laughed as he pulled her into the center of the dance floor. Aladdin lost her in the midst of all the people and reluctantly found a seat on the side and sat down.

He was thinking hard, but also focusing on Jasmine, eyeing her smiles and gestures to guess how best to approach her. She looked stunning, dressed in a dark blue silk dress cut into two pieces, golden flowers inlaid into the seams, with her hair delicately and simply arranged on her head, her small gold crown completing the look. Sitting in awe of her beauty, Aladdin lost track of his thoughts briefly before checking himself. He had to know what she wanted, and what he was most concerned about was whether or not she was happy. Would she try and dance with him? Would she search him out? Or would she completely forget he was even there and spend the entire evening on the arm of her husband-to-be?

Aladdin's thoughts were interrupted when a squat, good-humored looking man sat down next to him and chuckled slightly. But Aladdin was too busy to notice who it was and frankly didn't care. Probably some snob who had come to tell Aladdin that most of the other rich people in attendance thought he was a joke. Aladdin was far too used to that to even attempt to listen. But he did catch a few words of what the man was saying to him.

"…she looks so happy out there, doesn't she?"

Aladdin, stuck in his own world and certain the man was talking about something else, agreed. "Yes, she does."

"Time will do that to a person. Or perhaps it's merely the dancing. Women love to dance. Did you ever take your loved one out dancing?"

Aladdin nodded curtly, not thinking about what the man was talking about. "Uh huh."

"Dancing, I always say, is the way to a woman's heart. Most of them adore dancing. Even if they don't particularly like the person they are partnered with. What do you think?"

Aladdin shrugged in small agreement, keeping his eyes locked on Roseau and Jasmine as they proceeded through the formal steps. "Yeah."

The man laughed. "Yes, then, we agree. Take for instance Jasmine there, dancing with her fiancé. Have you ever seen her look so happy?"

Aladdin sighed, still not looking at the man, and hated to agree. "No, I don't think I have."

"Well then, it must be the dancing. She has been around with Prince Roseau for almost a year now, and she looks the most enthralled I have seen her yet. Is it because she soon to be married and crowned sultana? No. Is it because she is having a party thrown in her honor? No. It is because she is dancing the night away while the man she loves never takes his eyes off her."

Aladdin felt a pang in his stomach that he knew didn't have to do with the food he had just eaten. Again, he had to agree. Jasmine did look very happy and she did look very much in love. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He knew he couldn't say anything to Jasmine, not yet anyway. Perhaps not ever. The man was right, she looked happy and enchanted because she danced the night away with the man she loved and assured that his love would never waver. It was almost like a fairytale for her, with her prince in shining armor having saved her from unpalatable pain, and giving her love that she never dreamt possible. But then, Aladdin mused, he had caused that pain and he was merely the villain in that fairytale.

The man, having gotten no response from Aladdin, patted him on the back and walked away. Aladdin still hadn't taken his eyes off of Jasmine. He hoped—he prayed—that perhaps if she just looked at him one time, one last time, that he would be able to deal with all the hardships and all the pain he would have to endure for the rest of his life. Just one look and he might be able to move on. Just one.

The Sultan walked away from Aladdin, shaking his head slightly and moving towards Genie. It was customary for the host not to dance until the third song played, and he hurried over to have a word with the jinnee about Aladdin. The old ruler was worried for the boy, and he knew that something was not right. Maybe it was the fact that Jasmine had never really looked at Roseau the way she did Aladdin. Maybe it was the fact that Aladdin would never stop loving Jasmine. Whatever it was, the Sultan found himself rooting for the underdog, the little guy.

Genie looked up grimly as the Sultan stood next to him and gave the small ruler a tiny smile that showed something was wrong. "What's wrong with Al? Why isn't he out there dancing and making Jasmine fall in love with him?"

"I was talking to him and he never even looked at me. He kept staring at Roseau and Jasmine as though there were no way for him to win my daughter back. It was a sad sight indeed."

Genie looked up. "What's that? You support the reunion of Al and Jas?"

The Sultan shrugged and bobbled his head. "Well, as her father, I'm not really supposed to take sides in the matter, being that I only want what's best for my daughter…" Genie gave him a knowing smile and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, very well. There is something about Roseau that I honestly dislike. I'm not sure why, but there is something about him that makes me feel he has something hidden. Something secret that he won't even share with my daughter. And I don't like it Genie, not one bit."

Genie grinned and nudged the Sultan with his shoulder. "Was that a 'yes'?" The Sultan nodded hastily. "Oh good! Welcome to the club!" Genie snapped his fingers and suddenly he was dressed in a suede jacket, holding a briefcase. He opened it up and took out some forms. "All right, I need you to sign here." The Sultan looked confused, but obliged. "And here. And here. And here. And initial here. And then here. And here. And here. And-" The Sultan gave him a reproachful look, and Genie shrugged. "We like to make sure our members are fully committed." With a wave of his hand, the files and jacket were gone, and in their place a small button attached to the front of the Sultan's robes. It was a small circle, colored red, in which the letters 'A.J.T.A." stood alone in golden print. It was a small pin, but noticeable.

"It stands for 'Aladdin and Jasmine Together Again'. Or 'Aladdin and Jasmine's Turbulent Affair". Whichever you prefer. Wear that so everyone knows what you stand for. The reunion of the most romantic and perfect couple you'll ever know. If you want, I'll even throw in a little something extra for your support." He changed the Sultan's turban into a baseball cap with the same letters stitched onto the front. "No? Stick with the pin."

The Sultan smiled politely and said, "Thank you, Genie. I suppose I'll wear it with pride. Though, if anyone asks, don't tell them what it stands for." Genie saluted and nodded in agreement. "Good. Oh! Is that the third song? I'm supposed to be dancing!"

He bounced away quickly, the tiny bells on his golden shoes jingling against the music. He ran up to Jasmine and bowed to her quickly, as she did back. Together, the two of them set off across the dance floor, with Roseau smiling at them from a distance, while the elderly man stood next to him, looking goaded.

Aladdin was determined to watch Jasmine, counting down the precious moments before he would give her up. Images and memories ran through his mind in a whirlwind of color and texture, and his chest began to swell from the emotions. He thought of all the happy times they had had together, and all the not so happy ones. He tried hard to remember what life had been like before he met the princess, but in the heat of the moment he couldn't recall even the simplest detail. Could he really just walk away and never see her again? Torture himself from the mixture of sharp memories and bitterness? Why could he remember Jasmine and nothing of the time he'd lost?

As cocky as Aladdin was at times, it was equal to the amount of hopelessness he felt right then. No, it wasn't at that moment, it had been since the minute he saw the parade of Prince Roseau. Everything from that point on clouded his present with doubt, worry and grief. He was a different man, as men went, and he was sure he had never really known fear until this situation. Until that very moment when he watched Jasmine twirl around the dance floor, her eyes never meeting his own, as the red prince clapped and laughed along with her.

Genie could sense the fear in Aladdin's eyes from across the dance floor. He had seen the look before, on Aladdin's face, but had never imagined its intensity could be felt from across a crowd. When Genie looked at Aladdin, he did not see the kindest, most caring soul, or the brave Hero of the Sand, but a man so lost in his past that he was struggling fiercely against the tides of the present.

Upset at the current turn of the situation, Genie quickly went over his friend to give him a few words of encouragement. Genie knew what was planned for later on in the evening, and wanted to help Aladdin before he plummeted so low even Aladdin would give up. After all, Aladdin had more courage and bravery than in any person Genie had met, and he was certain that Aladdin could break away from the doubt that shrouded him with just a little nudge in the right direction.

And so Genie did just that—he gave Aladdin a little nudge in the right direction.

Before Aladdin could even realize what had happened, he was skidding around the dance floor with the large diamonded woman in his arms, tossing and swirling around it with the other couples. He was confused and began to panic, until he realized that Jasmine was watching him intently out of the corner of her eye. Aladdin, not wanting to seem nervous under her stare, got his state about him and paced around the floor with the woman who smiled and helped him along with the steps. It was just another dance now, just another obstacle to overcome. A quick dance would be no problem compared to facing a real life wind jackal, right?

Iago flapped over to land on Genie's shoulder, who looked embarrassed and anxious about something. Iago, though, knew what it was about. "What the heck was that? I don't think Aladdin wanted to dance with the lady who might eat him and take his gold."

Genie blushed and shrugged quickly, "I thought I would help him along a bit…"

But Iago rolled his eyes. "Well the next time you want to push him the right direction, make sure you have good aim. I mean, Jasmine was on the other side of the floor, for crying out loud!"

Genie glared. "Well I didn't see you giving Al any help. You were probably the one who brought his confidence down!"

Iago rolled his eyes once more. "Please. I'm helped the kid tonight already, I've done my Good Samaritan deed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go smooth talk that gent over there into giving me a nice ruby for being such an intelligent bird." He flew off, heading for a man in the corner with rubies practically stitched into his clothing. But before he made it there, he made sure to fly through Aladdin and the diamond lady to break them up and squawk something out about helping the poor birds of Agrabah.

Now that Aladdin was free and his fingers could relax (the sapphire rings that woman wore had torn into his fingers), he turned his eyes to find Jasmine to see if she needed a partner. He found her quickly, and though she had already attracted a crowd of rich men, she too found his eyes and smiled slightly to see him working his way over to her.

Aladdin approached the group apprehensively as though they were an exclusive club he was not in. The eyes of the dozen or so young men that made up the crowd turned to Aladdin and chuckled to themselves at his sight. He knew he must have looked like a beggar compared to the men, with his absence of a dozen sapphires glazing his fingers, but one look from Jasmine gave him something he was sure the other men had never had. He spoke up, his words shaking slightly. "Um, Jasmine?" The other men glared at his lack of propriety. "I mean, er, Princess Jasmine?" She frowned at these words. "Would you like to dance?"

The other men laughed and one of them said plainly, "I'm sorry, boy, but Princess Jasmine is busy right now. Perhaps you could come back when we finish our conversation about the increasing amounts of poor people with no common sense."

Aladdin knew the words were meant as a jab, but they were poorly put together and not at all threatening. "Oh? Well perhaps I might join in the discussion later about stately people who have no manners?" He knew he'd gone too far, but smiled coldly as the man clenched his fists and gave Aladdin a look beyond repugnance. Jasmine, on the other hand, grinned slightly and held out her hand to Aladdin.

"As a matter of fact, I would love to dance with you, Aladdin. Please excuse me, gentlemen." She brushed past them in a plain way, not to be rude. She walked with Aladdin out onto the dance floor, and the pair felt the eyes of every guest upon them, a walking spectacle of interest. Aladdin supposed it was a rare sight to the royalty: a street rat openly dancing with the beautiful princess.

The introduction to the song came on, and Aladdin bowed his head to her in a sign of respect. Jasmine frowned slightly at the formality, but curtsied royally and elegantly. But before he could hold one hand out for her to take, she had pulled in his hand around her waist and grabbed the other to hold in the air, clearly wanting to get on with the dance part of the dancing.

They twirled for a moment around the floor; Aladdin stared at Jasmine as though she was a treasure he had just found. She tried not to look at him, afraid already of the stares and the whispers that followed them as they swept about the floor. She looked to one side, realized that they held the attention of everyone in the vicinity, and sighed again.

"Aladdin?" She murmured slightly, hardly moving her lips and still not looking into his eyes. "Why did you come here tonight?"

Aladdin barely noticed the looks of those around them and instead focused on the tone in Jasmine's voice. Was she wondering why he had come for her? Or why he loved her? Her words stung a bit, and Aladdin wasn't sure what to make of them. Did she wish he'd never showed up? Did she want him gone from her sight? The very thought of it made Aladdin feel sick to his stomach.

But instead of voicing out all of these concerns to her as he knew he should have done, his reply came in the mere form of a shrug. "Why shouldn't I have come?"

Jasmine sighed once more, and Aladdin's heart beat wildly, suddenly afraid of her response. "I just assumed you'd have stayed away from the engagement party."

That was it. That was all she said. "Well, if I had known this was your engagement party, believe me Princess, I wouldn't have come."

Now, of all times, she turned to look at him. "Why do you have to do that?"

"Do what?" She rolled her eyes, although, Aladdin noticed, they had begun to glisten in the dim lighting. "That. Have that tone in your voice that says you blame me."

Aladdin twirled her to one side, so that she would look at him as they danced. "Blame you? I don't blame you. What should I blame you for?"

Jasmine let her fingers loosen, trying to get out of Aladdin's grasp. "Why should you blame me? You did it again! Pretending all of this never happened and that I merely betrayed you in some way that could never allow us to be friends again."

Aladdin almost dropped his hands from their grasp around her own. "Be friends again? Is that what you want? You want us to be just friends, after everything we've been through, and after everything we've fought for?" Jasmine cast her eyes at the floor, her thick lashes covering their emotion.

"I just want everything to stop hurting," she whispered.

There was a silence between them now, and the pair wondered separately how long the song would continue. Jasmine kept her head down, away from Aladdin's eyes, ashamed of herself and her words. Aladdin numbly kept his focus straight, continuing to look out at the sea of people amassed around them. He caught sight of Genie, who attempted to give him a thumbs-up, but Aladdin only frowned, and looked away, afraid to look anyone in the eye.

Because deep down he did feel like he blamed her, and he knew very well that he should not. She had been alone, helpless in a way, and he had just left her. He had left her with unfinished promises and a bleak hope of the future. Abandoning her, Aladdin knew she had moved on with her life like she would have in any other situation.

The song came to a close; couples began to wander off the dance floor just as the music died. All eyes, still focused on Aladdin and Jasmine, watched as the couple continued their dance, the pair never realizing that the reason for their connection had ended. They stood there together, moving only softly to the rhythm, completely enticed in their own worlds and thoughts. They were both thinking, but not of the same things. They were both dancing, but not to the same rhythm. And they both loved, but not in same ways.

Aladdin couldn't have heard the music or the whispers even if he tried. His head was swimming with the very last thing Jasmine had said, the very last thing he had heard. _I just want everything to stop hurting_. He could not describe the effect the words had upon him, so lasting did they resound in his mind. He was surrounded by the words, choked by them, suffocated by them. He wanted to get away from her, from there, but his legs didn't seem to be able to move. His mind wasn't in control anymore—only his heart.

Aladdin realized what she said and it scared him beyond anything. It scared him and frightened him because he knew the truth behind the words. He realized why they were so significant to him. He felt the exact same way. It was almost as if the words had come out of his own mouth instead of Jasmine's.

Another song began to play, and Jasmine attempted to pull away from Aladdin, to walk away and go somewhere else, but her hands were grasped firmly within his own and she found she could go nowhere. She pushed their tangled hands against his chest to get his attention and gave him a pleading look that he did not notice nor comprehend.

"Aladdin…" she whispered strongly, fully aware of the crowd around them. "Please…"

He finally acknowledged her presence and bent low to whisper in her ear. "Do you want me to go? Is that what you what, Jasmine? Because I will go and I will never come back. Just tell me now. Am I fighting for all of this, for us—am I doing it in vain? Should I stop now and spare us both the pain?"

Jasmine turned to look him square in the eye, with her jaw set and her mouth pursed. She stood there for a moment, and then said in a clear and almost definite voice, "I want you to tell me why you left me alone all those lifetimes ago. Answer me that, Aladdin, and then we can be okay. And then maybe everything will go back to the way it was. But not now. Not now."

She pulled away from him, both physically and emotionally, and he watched her walk to Roseau and smile at him. But it was not the same smile as it had been before, Aladdin noticed. It was a smile from force: a smile that did not light up the area, or cause those around to smile along too. It was a smile that told Aladdin quite plainly he had better get a move on and find out why he had been gone for so long.

Carpet and Abu bounced and flew over to Aladdin, unknowing energy beaming from them. Abu grinned with a look of question and Carpet placed a tassel on Aladdin's shoulder sympathetically. They paused for a moment, each looking at one another, while Aladdin continued to gaze at the smile on Jasmine's face. And then he did something he would have never expected. He grinned too.

He turned to Carpet and Abu, who appeared bemused. "I think it's time to look for my past now."

Abu turned his head to one side, confused. Carpet placed his tassel near his center, posed in thought. Suddenly, he understood the message and circled around Aladdin excitedly. Aladdin laughed. "Yep, that's right, Carpet. You guys ready for another adventure?" Abu squeaked and nodded earnestly, as Carpet flew forward to go and find Genie. Aladdin followed. He was ready for an adventure, and he was ready for a look around. He wanted to make things the way they were before, and he figured the best place to start would be with his old hobbies.

Before Aladdin could make it across the dance floor, however, the music had stopped playing and the crowd had stopped dancing. The only real movement was Aladdin's haste to get to Genie, but he ceased his walk when the others gave him a severe look. He stood, looking around, trying to determine the cause for the interruption, with Abu on his shoulder. The little monkey shrugged with an, 'I dunno' escaping his frowned mouth. Aladdin put a shoulder on the man in front of him to get a better look at the main stage, where everyone's attention was rapidly focused.

He saw Roseau, Jasmine, the Sultan and the elderly man all together on the left side of the dance floor. A silence fell over the crowd, anticipating some sort of speech. It was Roseau who finally spoke up, looking eagerly around.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I call to your attention the time-honored tradition of wedding engagements in Presse!" He was handed a red velvet box by a servant from the back. "It is tradition in my kingdom for the man to marry to present his future bride with a gift that shows his true devotion to her for all eternity. And for my dearest Jasmine, I give her something that is worthy of her beauty and status, something that can only enhance her essence and make me love her even more."

The prince opened the tiny box, and Aladdin saw a large, gold ring encrusted with colossal red rubies. How it had fit inside the small box, Aladdin wondered. Roseau held it up for everyone to see and turned to look at Jasmine. "My dear, please accept this as a token of my love for you, and cherish it as I treasure you. Forever."

The crowd applauded approvingly as Jasmine put her hand over her chest, as though surprised at such a gift. She smiled graciously at the crowd, and then Roseau, and accepted the large piece of jewelry Aladdin knew she had no taste for. It was too much splendor for one person to wear, even when that person was more beautiful than the desert sky.

But as Aladdin watched Roseau take hold of Jasmine's hand, his heart grew cold. A deep pain swelled his chest and choked him, and Aladdin could do nothing but simply watch as another man placed the token of commitment upon his true love's finger. Aladdin felt his eyes begin to water, and he forced himself to look away. After staring at his feet for a dozen moments, Aladdin looked up to see Jasmine staring at him sadly. Her eyes glanced down briefly and then back up at Aladdin, indicating her knowledge of his pain. What should have angered Aladdin only gave him hope. He stared at his love shortly before nodding, and Jasmine, looking surprised, simply stared right back. He knew that he couldn't let her go. Aladdin resumed his path and headed for Genie. He had to discover the answers to the past six years, and he needed to do so quickly.


	3. Gone, part III

_The late afternoon set shed its bright outer layer to reveal a warm, orange glow that bathed the city in darkened hues of red. Dusk had settled in, and the streets began to empty for the evening. Men, women, and children filed from the city walkways to their homes, many of whom waved goodnight to each other, never noticing the hooded figure as she crept her way to the outer city limits._

_The narrow streets revealed an alley, and the princess hurried down the darkened passage and then turned sharply to the left, where she gracefully scaled the short wall that blocked her path. The city of Agrabah, a warm and welcoming place in the hot desert heat, turned villainous in the cooling hours of the night, and Jasmine, not afraid of losing her direction, feared the consequences not arriving in time. She ducked behind a wall as guards ran past, searching the city for signs of treachery and criminality. All but her face concealed in the dark, Jasmine peered cautiously around the corner, just as a hand cut through the shadow and clamped down upon her mouth, silencing her scream. _

_Adrenaline rushed through Jasmine's body before her mind could process the circumstances, and she elbowed her attacker in the stomach in an attempt to free herself. The man doubled over in pain, but before Jasmine could deliver another blow he fell into the shadow to reveal a slightly black but very blue Genie._

_Jasmine cursed the jinni, and bent down to pick him up off the floor. "Genie, what are you doing here? I thought you were back at the palace?"_

_Genie watched the five ducklings swim around his head before smiling dumbly. "Wow, look at the cute little penguins!"_

_Jasmine, annoyed, merely sighed in response and ushered the spirit out of the light and into the shadow. "Genie, you shouldn't have come here. You could jeopardize the entire mission!"_

_Genie shook the birds from his head and regained his concern. "Jasmine, are you kidding? It's dangerous to be out here by yourself. If your father knew where you were…"_

"_Don't worry, Father doesn't know. I'm aware of the conditions, Genie, but it's late and I have a lot of ground to cover still." She peeked around the corner and then hid as men rushed passed, citizens rushing home to avoid the danger of the darkness. After ensuring that the coast was clear, Jasmine ran round the alley and down the street, her heart pounding as she ducked into a doorway that penetrated an older, desolate building. Jasmine breathed in deep before slipping inside and crashing into Genie's chest._

_The jinni caught her before she fell to the ground. She punched his arm in gratitude. "What are you doing? Are you trying to get us both caught?" Jasmine hissed, looking around Genie's upper body to see if they'd been discovered. Abandonment described the room; the furniture was worn with age and falling apart, and hidden amidst the stacks of papers and books, their corners curling and their color antiquing, was candle wax, puddles of it on the floor, dried with time. The air was stale and musty, and there was little light seeping through the cracks in the boarded windows. "I already checked it out, there's no one here."_

_Jasmine glanced up at Genie before beginning her inspection of the room. "There's no one in the room?"_

"_There's no one in the building."_

_Jasmine's footsteps quickly faltered. "What do you mean? There has to be someone here. The old man who lives here…"_

_Genie turned to address Jasmine's back. "I'm sorry, Jasmine. He's not here anymore. I don't know where he's gone."_

_Jasmine, unperturbed, began scouring the endless stacks of dirt covered papers, not sure what she was looking for. "So then we'll wait for him to return. Genie, do you mind helping me through all this stuff? It might tell us something."_

_Genie obeyed Jasmine's command, but his eyes expressed his doubt and concern. "Jasmine? Fasir has been gone for two years, since the start of the desert wars. No one has seen anything of him. I don't know where he went."_

_Jasmine never looked at Genie as he spoke. Her fingers danced through the papers in a constant rhythm, feeling for the answers through the texture of the pages. "That's not true, Genie. Fasir was seen by that man just yesterday. He has to be here, Genie."_

"_Jasmine," Genie began, picking up a stack of papers and rifling through them himself. He knew there were no answers written in their ink, but he examined them anyway. "No one but that man saw him. I don't think he's been here at all."_

_Jasmine laughed coldly and moved to the other side of the room, rummaging through a shelf full of books. "He was here, Genie. I know he was."_

_Genie stopped and turned, frowning at Jasmine's back. "Aladdin was not with him."_

_Jasmine ceased her search, her back straightening in an instant at the mention of the name. "The man said he saw Fasir with another man, a younger man with wavy black hair and a powerful build. Aladdin was here. He came back."_

_Genie, angered at the very thought, burst from his shell. "Jasmine, Aladdin has been gone for three years! He didn't come back last night and then disappear again! He's not coming back at all!" Genie kicked a broken piece of furniture in frustration, shattering its remains against a wall. "He left, Jasmine, and he's not coming back! And I can't find him!"_

_Genie watched as Jasmine fell to both knees, her eyes unfocused and unseeing. "He has to come back, Genie…. Why would he just leave?"_

_Genie immediately sobered. A deep sigh escaped his body, rushing from the worry and regret that crushed his chest and burdened his mind. "I'm sorry, Jasmine. I don't know."_

_Jasmine turned her head slightly at Genie's answer, but in the cloud of dust and doubt that enveloped the room her eye discerned something strange and foreign. She stood up and reached for the velvet object that lay between pounds of books, shaking the dust from the cloth and holding it in the light to examine. The soft velvet felt warm to her fingertips, and when Jasmine recognized its color, she took in a sharp breath._

"_It's Aladdin's."_

* * *

Aladdin shot up from the ground of his hovel, perspiration running down his temples and thickening on his neck. His eyes were round with shock and surprise, and his heart stammered to feed the adrenaline that shook his entire body. 

Blood. There'd been thick, red blood everywhere. It mixed with the desert sand and formed small puddles of treacherous, unforgiving slaughter. A hood figure stood in the center, laughing a cruel laugh that soundly oddly familiar.

Aladdin had never witnessed a massacre like the one in his dream, and he was glad that it had been just that—a dream. To watch a thousand murders in a single night, to hear the screams and wails of mothers and children as they sounded their final moments before butchery sent chills down the hero's spine and made him sick to his stomach. He pulled back the sheet that substituted as a curtain, and watched the sun rising to the east of the palace. He stared long and hard at the city in its innocent and peaceful state, trying to pull the images from his mind and replace them with those of his home. But he felt an electric charge of fear run through his arms and down his legs, and knew it had nothing to due with the chill of the morning.

He tidied his hovel and straightened the room before beginning his routine pacing. While he awaited the return of Genie, Iago, Abu and Carpet, Aladdin thought long and hard about how best to approach the situation. He didn't know where to begin his search for his past. He thought of the locations in the city, the respectable and the disreputable, concluding that the best place to start would be with the local pubs. Aladdin would send the word out, asking for those who had any information about his disappearance to report their knowledge at once. The citizens would respond, Aladdin knew, but that would only work if someone actually knew something. For all he knew, he'd disappeared quickly and quietly, without a trace.

Aladdin stopped pacing when he saw Carpet flying toward the building, carrying Abu and Iago, who shivered in the morning air. Genie flew next to the group, his eyes wandering over the sights of the city. As Aladdin moved to one side to allow their entry, he grinned at the sight of gang, who looked apprehensive.

Abu was the first to respond. He scampered up Aladdin's legs and torso to reach his shoulder, where he perched and gave Aladdin a warming hug. "'ello!" He murmured and promptly rested against Aladdin's head, apparently still sleepy.

'Don't expect a nice hello from me, Al. The sun hasn't even come up yet, and I'm freezing my feathers off here." Iago shook slightly under Carpet, who shrugged at the bird's behavior. "Oh, yeah, sure, you stupid rug, I'm sure you're just fine here. You can't feel cold anyway."

Genie snapped his fingers and dressed Iago in a scarf and hat. "There. Now stop complaining. We're on a mission, bird man, and we can't have your complaints ruining the morale of the team." Genie stretched his arms high over his head, cracking his fingers and neck with a slight but fluid motion.

Iago mumbled under his breath, but stopped his whining. "Where the heck are we going, anyway? We've searched the city high and low in the last six years, and never found a trace of Al. It's not like we're gonna find anything now."

Aladdin's brows knitted together at the news. Although not unexpected, Aladdin had hoped that there would be something from which to go off of in discovering his past. "You never found anything? No one saw me leave? No one saw me before?"

Genie shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "I'm sorry, Aladdin. We never found a thing that could tell us where you'd gone. It was all speculation and guessing. The small things we did find never made any sense."

Aladdin retraced his pacing from before. "What did you find?"

Genie counted off the few clues on his hand. "A few things here and there. There seemed to be a couple of reports that you returned to the city two years ago, but no one could say where you'd gone to. When we heard, we scoured the city trying to find you but you either left already or hadn't returned at all."

Aladdin nodded his head. "My hovel was never touched?"

"Not that we could see, although Abu swears that your dagger went missing about that time, but I don't remember seeing it before then anyway." Abu, perched on Aladdin's shoulder still, hopped up and down in agreement.

"Anything else?"

"Well, actually Al, there were tons of clues, but we couldn't fit them together. None of them make any sense. One night, tracks were seen entering Agrabah but not leaving, and the guards couldn't tell what made them. They were about your size. Then later, a man traveled all the way from Kasistan to tell us he'd met you in the battles of the south, but couldn't even tell us your name. But it gave us hope that maybe you'd joined the armies there to fight the war."

Aladdin looked up at the news. "War? What war? In Agrabah?"

"Not Agrabah," Genie responded. "It never reached Agrabah. There was a major war between neighboring cities in the south, and Agrabah remained neutral, until last year, when news came that the rebel armies were pushing their way north to attack the city."

"Which city brought the news?"

Genie looked away, but answered. "Presse. Aladdin… It was one of the reasons Jasmine decided to marry the red prince. An alliance with Presse would strengthen both cities, so that we could defend against an attack when it came…."

Aladdin swallowed hard at the thought and it made his heart skip. "But why attack Agrabah?"

Iago spoke up at this moment. "Agrabah is the last city unaffected by the war. The Sultan swore to remain neutral and has done that so far. But the wars have been raging on for five years. It's not like we can stay in the middle forever, especially with the enemy cities casting their greedy little eyes on Agrabah. I dunno, Al. And we've heard some of the old baddies were involved in the wars too. We're pretty sure the conflict zone has already passed the Land of the Black Sand, so Mozenrath must be part of the mess."

Aladdin grimaced at the news of his old rival. It had been years since he lasted encountered the sorcerer, and he was not looking forward to doing so again, if Mozenrath was even alive.

Such a long war, too. Aladdin cursed himself silently for being absent from the city in such a severe time. Aladdin could not bear to see the city fall, and knew in his heart that it was his responsibility to not only guard it, but also to protect it, no matter the costs. But the information Genie and his friends provided only made his chest constrain tightly, heavy burdens descending on the shattered remains of his heart.

"Could I have gone to help fight? Did I leave maybe to help the rebel forces or something?"

Genie, suddenly preoccupied with a small self-made trap that engulfed his fingers, shrugged the thought away. "No. The war started only five years ago. If you left for that reason, it doesn't explain where you'd gone for that first year."

Aladdin knew this also, but remembered the poignant dream that had awakened him earlier. "I still feel like I was there, though… I see scenes in my mind, horrible images. People dying, murder, chaos…." Aladdin closed his eye, the picture unraveling in his mind, trying hard to remember details about the dream that would contend its validity. He saw the people's faces, real and terrified. And the landscape burned under a thousand tales of disaster and malevolence. And then he remembered it: another dark and hooded figure standing in the corner, surveying the scene as Aladdin was, but the street rat could not see the face that accompanied the body.

Aladdin opened his eyes wide to see his friends staring at him in concern. "I'm fine. Just remembered something…" As Genie's eyebrows raised, Aladdin shook his head and stood up. "Nothing important. At least not yet."

Stretching his arms around his back, Aladdin stood and faced the palace and the city. "Well, we better get started. This might take a while."

"Oh, you think? We already looked for six years. How much longer is this going to take?" Iago flew and landed on Aladdin's other shoulder, Abu swinging at him as he touched down. "What's your problem? Hey, everyone was thinking it, I just said it. We looked for a long time, Al. Maybe it's one of those things we'll never figure out. Like how Genie was given phenomenal cosmic powers and no brain." Genie, pulling his hands hard to release their trap from the small woven device and having no success, slumped his shoulders and sighed, resigned to his fate of having two less fingers. "Anyway, why can't we just move on with our lives? You can win Jasmine back, get married, and we can live the life of luxury in the palace, no worries at all. With a massage chair, too, I've always wanted one of those."

Abu knocked Iago off Aladdin's shoulder, screeching something which sounded like, "It's Aladdin!"

"Okay monkey, calm down already! So then Al, where do you want to start?" Iago flew around the room. "Like I said, we searched high and low, and never found a trace of you."

Aladdin peered over the ledge to examine the city, the rising sun in the east casting a murky orange glow over the buildings and towers. His eyes focused on an old building near the western canyon. "I want to find Fasir. I feel like he has something to do with this."

Genie attempted to snap out the Chinese finger trap and merely flicked his fingers. "We checked out Fasir's place." Realization dawned upon him, and suddenly the trap disappeared between his fingers. "Wait, we did find something there! It was your red hat. But that was it, and all the magic in the world couldn't tell us anything more."

Aladdin patted his hair quickly only to realize the hat was indeed missing from his head. "Well, that's a start. Let's check back at Fasir's place. There has to be something there."

Genie jumped at the command, his army regalia and salute confirming his understanding. "Yes sir! Attend hut!" Iago, Abut and Carpet immediately sprang up to form an orderly line, Carpet and Abu carrying small guns and Iago with a target strapped to his back. "Alright soldiers! We've got an important mission today, so we all need constant vigilance and—just what do you think you're doing, solider? Don't take that target off your back, these men need practice!"

Aladdin bent over to scoop Iago off the floor before he had a panic attack. "It's okay Genie, I think we're good to go. Carpet?" The rug tossed the gun to the other corner of the room and flew over to Aladdin's side. Iago, Genie and Abu looked up expectantly at the street rat. "Let's move!"

* * *

"Here! The street rat is here? How could you have allowed this to happen? Under your shallow nose!" A dark hooded figure stood in the early morning shadows of Agrabah, his bony fingers gleaming in the darkness, his breath misting in the early dew of the dawn, as he clutched the front of another man's cloak. "How could you have let him escape?" 

"Forgive me, master, I knew not the nature of Mozenrath. It seems he allowed the boy to escape even after swearing an oath of allegiance to our cause."

The older man pushed the other away from him in disgust, forcing him to stumble over crates, spilling dozens of apples onto the dirt alley before falling on his back. "Fool! Of course Mozenrath was insincere in such an oath! The man listens only to himself and no other! When I told you to control him, I did not mean persuade him to join our forces, I meant physically constrain him!" The man shook with fury and advanced on the fallen servant. "I suppose he took his gauntlet with him before escaping?"

"Ye-yes, sire. Forgive me, sire, I did not know."

The older man expelled a deep breath before continuing. "No, I suppose you cannot be blamed for relentless and incurable stupidity. But the Sultan will not be pleased." Gripping his cloak in one hand, the man stretched his arm forward and plucked an apple from an open crate. "Did the girl go with him?"

"No, master. The girl stayed behind. It seems the two were not as close as we perceived." The fallen man cowered on the ground, visibly shaking in fear. "Please, master. I swear I will do better. I will not fail you again. I will find the street rat and kill him before night falls. I will not fail you again."

The older man cast an incensed gaze upon the other before spinning the apple in his hands. "No, I do not believe you will. I believe you will be attentive and diligent in your chores from now on, menial as they will be. You will not kill the street rat. I have another idea for him. As for Mozenrath, you will travel to the Land of the Black Sands and kill him before he kills you." The man clenched the apple tightly in his fist and gnashed his teeth. "And death by Mozenrath will be most painful, you can be assured. He holds grudges, the subordinate sorcerer does, especially against those who imprison and enslave him."

The man kneeled to level himself with the other, still sprawled on the ground. "But fail in this task and allow the Lord of the Black Sand to escape, be sure to keep yourself hidden. For the sultan will not think kindly of your failure, and his temper is inexorable and merciless." The apple, still clenched in the man's fist, began to compress in his tight grip and the juices bled down the side of his palm, shaking in a violent red. "He had his own wife murdered, and every other person who has failed to please him has been slaughtered in his wake."

The remains of the fruit reduced to pulp, the older man threw them into the other's eyes. The fallen man gasped and wailed in pain, the poisoned apple attacking his face and vision. "I hope that scars, you idiotic oaf." Quickly, the shadows, eclipsed by the rising sun, disappeared and the citizens venturing from their homes found no trace of either man save the remains of the repugnant fruit and shattered crates.

* * *

The city began to glow with sunlight and vivacity, the citizens of Agrabah beginning their early morning rituals with the dawn awakening them to their tasks. But for Aladdin and his friends, the cold morning offered no comfort as they searched through the remains of what once housed the shaman Fasir, the bleak light that dawn presented struggling to seep through the thin holes that feigned semblance as tempered windows. 

Aladdin ran his fingers through his musty hair, the air in the tiny room causing him to perspire slightly. He squinted in the dim light, looking for the tiniest detail that might relate to him his past or anything odd that could tell the group where Fasir had gone. Seeing nothing but eerie darkness, Aladdin turned to Genie.

"Anyway we could light this room up a little?"

Genie nodded, and instantly spun to reveal his new form as an incandescent light bulb. His large size ensured that every inch of the room was lit, but also blinded the entire company. Abu shuddered and turned away, hiding his face behind Aladdin's pants while Carpet flew to block Aladdin from the brilliant light.

"Uh, HELLO? Can you turn yourself into a lamp or something? You just burned through my retinas for crying out loud!" Iago rose to Genie's height, peeking at him through squinted eyes. "Next time you get a bright idea, don't get so bright!"

Genie instantly transformed into his original self, holding a large lamp with a less-offensive orange glow. "Ha ha, sorry. I forgot that mortals have a more fragile anatomy."

Aladdin peered over Carpet as Abu hopped onto his shoulder. "That's okay Genie. I asked for light. This place is creepy otherwise." In fact, the entire room gave the group the chills. An assortment of strangely shaped organs stood in septic jars, their smell permeating the room and mingling with the dusty air. Tapestries covered the walls, telling tales of bloodshed and enchantment that appeared centuries old. Books and papers covered every surface of the room, and Aladdin could make out worn footprints in the thickening dust on the floor, that looked a few years old.

Carpet began sweeping over the area, examining the neglected rugs and clothing on the floor. Iago flew swiftly to land on the nearby bookshelf. "Why do people build places like this, anyway? Or better yet, why do people LIVE in places like this?" He stomped over the remains of antique books and charts, dust swirling as he went. "It doesn't even look like a house!"

Aladdin began sorting through papers lying on the table and shifted entire stacks over to reveal a rather aged map. "It looks like a library. All of these papers and books must have something in them that can tell me what happened in the last six years."

Genie placed the lamp on the table before continuing his rummaging next to Aladdin. "I can tell you what they contain, Al. Spells. Good ones and bad ones, from the sounds of them. Jasmine and I poked around here years ago, when she found your hat."

Aladdin looked up at the news. "Jasmine found the hat? You let her come here? This is a bad neighborhood! Did she come here during the day? It's not safe, Genie!"

Iago rolled his eyes as Abu hopped over to stand next to him, searching the book titles on the shelf. "Don't worry, lover boy, Genie was with her the whole time. And besides, what did you expect her to do? Wait by the balcony in hopes you'd fly in on a magic carpet? She's no ordinary princess, remember?"

Aladdin huffed a bit before shrugging. "Yeah." He awkwardly shifted his weight between his two feet. "So has anybody found anything?"

Iago kicked a book from the shelf before answering, narrowly missing Abu's feet. "No. And are we gonna find anything? No."

Genie glared at Iago before magically placing the book back where it belonged. "What type of attitude is that? Al needs us to help him, and that includes you too…Oh, I know!" Iago's shrill squawk made Aladdin look up from the map to see him flapping frantically, his new form causing him to fly lopsidedly.

"Genie? I don't think turning Iago into a magnifying glass is going to help us."

Genie looked over at Aladdin before smiling nonchalantly. "Really? It worked for Sherlock Holmes." Aladdin raised his eyebrows and grinned, but turned back to the map. In the dim light, Aladdin could hardly make out the lines and formations on the page. It appeared to show the entire seven deserts, but with a red stain covering half of the south lands. A land to the east contrasted with the rest of the map: it was drawn with a black shadow, but Aladdin could not make out the names of the locations.

"Genie, have you seen this before?" Aladdin tapped Genie's arm to get his attention, and held out the large map before his friend. "Can you read what it says?"

Genie looked at the map distractedly, taking a quick glance, and then looking back for a longer scrutiny. "No, Al. I wonder if that was here before?"

Glancing up, Aladdin took hold of Iago, who appeared quite upset that his upper body had been replaced with rounded glass. Aladdin ignored Iago's outburst as dozens of foul words filled the air before Genie snapped and covered Iago mouth with duck tape. Aladdin mouthed a quick 'sorry' to Iago before focusing the main magnifier over the page. Suddenly, the words and letters were crisp and large, and Aladdin immediately knew why the black paint covered the land to the east.

"The Land of the Black Sand! But this isn't right. Mozenrath's kingdom is half this size."

Genie and Carpet moved closer to examine the map over Aladdin's shoulder as Abu jumped on top of Carpet, and Iago twisted around to see. "And what do you think the red is for? Genie, what are these areas over here?" Aladdin asked, pointing to the lower deserts.

Genie moved Aladdin's hand and Iago's body over to the southern area before answering. "It looks like these are the kingdoms taken over through the war. I didn't realize it had reached Mozzy's place."

Aladdin gave Genie an inquisitive look. "I mean, Mozenrath hasn't been around for a couple of years, but we just assumed he'd given up on Agrabah once he found out you'd disappeared."

"But that doesn't make sense," Aladdin answered, shaking his head. "If I know Mozenrath, he would have seen my absence as an excuse to invade and take over. You haven't seen or heard from him in, what? Five, six years?"

Genie nodded. "But that's not the strangest part. We haven't had trouble with him personally, but neither as anybody else. In fact, Kasikstan tried to invade the Citadel a few years ago; I guess they had dealt with Mozzy before. But the Land had sealed itself. No one could enter."

Aladdin, completely transfixed by the news, placed Iago down on the table, and Abu hopped over to help the misshapen bird. "But why would he just lock himself up? He worked so hard to take over that place, and he was always trying to invade other kingdoms. Why would he just give that up?"

"Actually, we thought maybe Mozenrath wasn't in the Citadel." Genie waved his hand briefly. "That he might have left, and used that spell to ensure that nobody broke in without him knowing."

Aladdin stared at the map, at the area of black that stood out on its page, but his eyes were unfocused and he could not see clearly. Where was Mozenrath? Could he have anything to do with Aladdin's own disappearance? And why did Fasir have a map that contained this information?

Aladdin hoped drearily that Fasir could answer the questions crowding the spaces of his mind. His heart tightened with frustration, and he sighed heavily. The truth could only elude him for so long. With so many questions, the probability that he would learn at least one answer seemed rather reasonable.

Abu struggled to tear the tape from Iago's mouth, and finally managed to due so, falling onto his back. Iago immediately began cursing again, but moved over to the map, pointing at its bottom half.

"Hello! Look at this name next to the Black Sands…. 'Maghreb'. What does Maghreb mean?" Genie, Aladdin, Abu and Carpet all peered closely at the map, finding the word etched just below the darkened area, in crapped handwriting that did not match the map.

Aladdin's heart skipped a beat at the news. Finally, perhaps they had found something. "Looks like Fasir left us a little note. Maghreb. Hmm. Ring any bells, Genie?"

Genie shook his head in disbelief. "I've haven't heard that name in a long time. A very long time."

The group looked up expectantly at Genie. "Well, what does it mean?" Aladdin asked.

Iago shifted with his short feathers uncomfortably, and Genie, distractedly, turned him back to normal. "It's the name of a wizard. But a bad one—a very bad one. It was rumored that he died years and years ago, but it would explain where'd you'd run off to, Al."

Aladdin placed the map back onto the table and smiled incredulously. "Really? That's great!"

Genie gave Aladdin a grave look. "No, it's not. See, Maghreb is known in the jinni world as a 'collector'. He goes around trying to find any and all jinnis he can, making them do his bidding. He's found dozens, and multiple that by three…" Genie began ticking off his fingers, counting. "That's a lot of wishes."

"Hey, wait a minute! I've met this guy!" Iago fly up, now able to control his wings, to sit on Aladdin's shoulder. Abu joined him on the opposite side. "Yeah, when Jafar first started learning about Genie's lamp, this guy showed up asking a bunch of questions! Jafar was really suspicious of him and had him arrested by the guards. But later that night he disappeared! We never heard from him after that, but Jafar was REALLY ticked off."

Aladdin looked at each of his friends, who looked right back at him. The truth that he had been so feverishly seeking now turned into bad news. Aladdin did not know who Maghreb was or his connection to Aladdin's disappearance, but the evil that Genie mentioned did, and it sent shivers up Aladdin's spine. He twitched uncomfortably in the silence. A thought drifted into his mind that would break the pause. "Are there any jinnis that haven't been free yet, Genie?"

Genie laughed bitterly before answering. "Out of the twelve that I know, some of them through Eden, I'm the only one that's free." Aladdin frowned at the news.

"That's terrible. Genie, we should help them." Genie smiled kindly at Aladdin before ruffling his hair. "That's sweet, Al. But I think maybe we should focus on your problem for the time being. I mean, us jinnis have eternity, you know."

Aladdin nodded. "I think we should head to the Land of the Black Sand. Find out anything if we can from Mozenrath, if we can get in."

"You mean, if he's there." Iago reminded. "He's been gone a long time, too."

Aladdin nodded. His greatest rival had been missing for as long as Aladdin had. Perhaps then Mozenrath, who prided himself on knowing everything, could offer some answers. Aladdin rolled his eyes at the thought, his wishful thinking getting out of hand. Getting information out of Mozenrath would be like getting milk from a snake.

Genie, however, grinned at the idea and started dancing in the small room. "All right! And we're back! This is just like old times, huh, Al?" Genie proceeded through the steps of the Macarena, not noticing Aladdin's sudden reserve.

"Yeah, Genie. Just like old times." But for Aladdin, the old times mixed with the new, and his absence seemed not to exist, save for the wretched tearing of his heart. _This IS old times…for me…_

Iago, however, noticed Aladdin's sudden silence, and motioned to Abu. Abu nodded, and wrapped his tiny arms around Aladdin's neck. "Es okay."

Iago sighed. "Yeah, listen to the monkey, Al, he…" Iago stopped unexpectedly, bemused. "I can't believe I just said that." Abu swung at Iago, who flew towards Genie, Abu following his path.

Carpet quickly wrapped around Aladdin, spinning him in place until he faced the group. "Whoa." Aladdin rubbed his head a bit and steadied himself. "Well then, we're off."

Everyone beamed at him and quickly exited the building, through the splintered remains of the door. Aladdin began to follow, wading through the thick dust on the floor and stepping on something that creaked loudly. As the animals clamored onto Carpet and Genie transformed himself into an air force fighter pilot, Aladdin bent down to examine the source of the noise. Hidden in the dust, the frayed edges of a parchment betrayed themselves through the thickening grime, and Aladdin grasped the paper, shaking it slightly to unbind the dirt that stuck to it. He held the drawing up to the natural light provided by the open door and stared, interested.

The drawing was crude and rough, but Aladdin could make out a golden ring, simple yet elegant, centered on the page. Around the ring was a large red circle, created from the paint similar to that from the map. Aladdin looked quickly at his friends waiting for him outside before pocketing the parchment. He would examine it more closely later. Genie waved him over and Aladdin stood and left the room, leaving the musty room full of secrets and answers behind him.

* * *

Aladdin was ready for action. He was tired of feeling such pain, tired of his heart bleeding. He knew that the only way to fight his pain was to push it into the far spaces of his mind, and thus he did so without any concern. He would think about Jasmine and all that she meant to him later, once he had discovered the truth behind his disappearance. He only hoped that when he did learn the truth, it would not be too late. 

The cool breeze raked through Aladdin's hair as he and his companions made their way to the Land of the Black Sand. Already, Aladdin was ready for action, and he knew Mozenrath would be trouble, which lightened his heart rather than weighing it down. Mozenrath would put up a fight, and Aladdin concentrated all of his efforts into remembering their first encounters, certain that cunning and skill would be needed to make the sorcerer answer.

Suddenly, the black sand swirled around the tan in the late afternoon sun, glittering like a dark river of shadow and flame. Aladdin and his friends had reached the Land of the Black Sand. Darkness drifted through the city as fog on the sea, mingling with the desert air. Although it was still in the early afternoon, the walls and cliffs of the Land cast an unnatural silhouette on the surrounding area. Tall towers pierced the surface of the landscape, their rigid curves and razor edges beckoning the travelers to uncertainty.

Eerily, the main Citadel rose before the companions, casting an extensive shadow over what was once a dark and gloomy city of treachery. Aladdin traced the surrounding gate with his eyes, blocking the white, hot sun with the palm of his hand. The city was a dark stone set against the rising heat of the desert, but the usual blue glow of the city was mysteriously absent. Noticing a few guards shuffling near the main entrances, Aladdin halted Carpet and Genie before they passed through the large gates of the Land of the Black Sand.

Abu peeked over Aladdin's shoulder, cowering slightly against the street rat in fear of the looming kingdom. Aladdin patted Abu gently before pointing to the gates. "It's okay, Abu. I need you to come with me and Iago. Carpet, Genie, you two need to stay put, until we're sure that Mozenrath's magical sensors are turned off." Abu nodded his assent, hopping fully onto Aladdin's shoulder as he began walking toward the gates.

Genie saluted and pushed Iago up off of Carpet. "Go on, bird man. You heard Aladdin."

Iago looked meekly at the sight and shook his head. "Six years with no adventure! Six years with no danger! And now look—we're back where we started."

Genie shook his finger at the parrot in a fatherly way. "Now, now Iago, that's not true. We didn't start here. In the first episode we started in Agrabah, with Faisal trying to take Abu and Aladdin had to prove who the wind demons were, remember?"

"No." Iago replied timidly. He looked at the rising Citadel in apprehension.

"Come on, bird man, Al needs you. And besides, Carpet and I will check the place out for bad guys." Genie transformed himself instantly into a canine, sniffing the sand for distinct scents. "No one will escape my sense of smell!" He proceeded to search the entire area, his tail wagging slightly in the hot breeze. "No stone will be left unturned; no foul scent left unsmelled; no tail left intact!" Genie ran nose-first into Iago, his doggy tail furiously beating against his sides, and lights flashing wildly as he narrowed in on Iago's scent. "Either you've done something wrong, bird man, or you haven't bathed in a while." He took on last whiff of Iago's tail feathers and sneezed directly onto the poor bird as he tried to take cover under Carpet.

Iago appeared from beneath Carpet and glared irritably at Genie before walking forward. "I don't know what's worse, impending and inevitable danger or listening to Genie for five minutes…"

Aladdin and Abu had reached the walls of the city before Iago caught up. Motioning for Iago, Aladdin fell back onto the smooth, damp wall, and began to sidestep to the main entrance, carefully dulling his approach to the unsuspecting guardsmen. "Be on the lookout, you two, there are a few guards up ahead."

Iago flew to land on the top of Aladdin's shoulder, mimicking the street rat as he peered around the corner. "Um, Al? I don't think there are a few guards, there are HUNDREDS!"

Gasping before Iago finished his sentence, Aladdin surveyed the scene with understated disbelief. The entire inner city was swarming with the undead, the minions of Mozenrath who were slow, stupid, and easily ripped apart. However, as easy as they were to overcome, the sheer number of them grounded between Aladdin and the Citadel was daunting. They flowed from every opening, through windows, doorways and alleys, like ants over a colony, only Aladdin could not see their king. Abu hiccupped timidly.

Aladdin quickly looked behind him, meaning to motion to Genie and Carpet that they needed a new strategy, but the two were nowhere to be seen. Distracted, Aladdin turned completely, hiding behind the walls of the city from the guards within, but setting himself in plain sight for the guards outside.

Iago and Abu both shrieked and hid behind Aladdin's broad shoulders as the guards circled the hero, their swords and sabers drawn to trap him. Caught off guard, Aladdin was not certain how to react. He reversed his footsteps, moving backwards to the wall in defense but stopped sharply when his strong back hit the even stronger wall. The undead halted just short of the hero, the closest blades less than an arms-length away from him. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the sharp silence in the air.

"Well, well, well. After six years of searching, Aladdin of Agrabah finally decides to show up at my door. Good of you to drop by, street rat."

Mozenrath materialized before the hero, his dark cloak swishing against the heavy sand. His dusky curls wrapped round his face and his curved turban sat perfectly straight atop his head, his unconventionally handsome face and passionate eyes masking any and all emotion. Mozenrath looked no different from their last encounter, although Aladdin noted quickly the slack in his clothes and a distinctive pallor in his face. The sorcerer's dark robes contrasted sharply with the desert background, and the thick gauntlet that covered the man's right hand looked rough and worn in.

Aladdin straightened to face his old foe, while the undead moved from his path instantly, afraid of invoking Mozenrath's wrath, and nimbly distanced themselves from the ruthless ruler. "Ah, Mozenrath. I can see you still haven't met the sun since our last meeting."

Mozenrath stood within feet of Aladdin and folded his arms to cover his chest, giving Aladdin a repugnant smirk. "I wish I could say the same to you, Aladdin. But for all your adventures, I can say that you appear to have never suffered as I have, in the name of justice."

Aladdin snorted before retorting. "Justice? Your idea of justice, Mozenrath, makes most people sick." He motioned to the undead minions before matching Mozenrath's pose, but with more confidence and a challenging attitude. Mozenrath merely glowered at Aladdin and dropped his hands to his side in anger.

"Again, how you managed to come back, I'm just DYING to know. Or perhaps…your friends should take my place instead?" Mozenrath held up his fist and snapped his fingers. Within seconds, a group of undead soldiers brought Genie and Carpet before Mozenrath. Genie, trapped inside a tiny vial, was hitting the side of the glass in hopes of it shattering, with Carpet struggled fitfully with a half dozen soldiers who were trying to contain him.

"Let them go, Mozenrath! You'll pay for this!" Aladdin yelled in the ruler's face, his anger and resentment welling inside of him as he sprang forward only to be pushed back by the many swords forcing him in place. Iago and Abu continued to cower behind Aladdin's shoulders, as though hoping the evil ruler would not notice them.

"Careful now. My minions may not stop themselves next time and run you through. And just what would we do with a dead hero on our hands? Your little Princess might be upset before she finds herself another rat to marry." Aladdin, mouth open for rejoinder, shut it quickly and looked away at the name. Mozenrath's eyes, however, lit up at the sight. "Oh? Did the princess already replace you? Don't worry, Aladdin, you may not find another idiotic princess to promise herself to you, but from what I've heard, you're well on your way to ruling the seven deserts yourself."

At this, Aladdin immediately looked up. "What are you talking about?"

"Tsk, tsk. Don't play games with me, Aladdin. You know what I want, and if you hand it over quietly I just might spare you and your little friends."

Aladdin sent daggers through Mozenrath with his eyes, but held his defensive stance. "What do you want from me this time?"

Mozenrath smirked, crooking his head coyly toward Aladdin. "Have you forgotten already? The same thing I wanted from you the last time we met." At the confused look on Aladdin's face, Mozenrath continued. "The jinni, you fool, the jinni. I need it to stop Maghreb from invading my lands. Whatever your plans for the jinni, only one with true strength can command its power."

Aladdin suddenly straightened, and confusion swam through his mind once more._ What was Mozenrath talking about?_ Hundreds of thoughts raced through Aladdin's mind, as he surveyed Mozenrath through suspicious eyes. Mozenrath appeared much thinner, much paler, and much more cross than ever before, but what did that have to do with him?

Mozenrath, mistaking Aladdin's movement for stubbornness, continued. "Give the jinni to me, Aladdin." He suddenly sneered vehemently at Aladdin. "Or did you already set it free?"

At this point, Aladdin had to admit ignorance. "What the hell are you talking about, Mozenrath? What jinni? And who is Maghreb and how is his name linked to your lands?"

Mozenrath's eyes narrowed. "You don't remember anything that has come to pass? Maghreb? The jinni? Shahyrar?" Aladdin shook his head in incomprehension. "You fool! That must mean they took the jinni from you! What have you done?!" Mozenrath clenched his fist to his side before thrusting it before him, revealing a charged ball of energy focused on Aladdin and his companions. Iago shrieked and Abu scampered, both bolting to the sides as the violet, pulsating orb quickly gushed forward, intending the kill Aladdin once and for all.

Aladdin, however, was much too quick for Mozenrath, even Mozenrath in anger. Jumping to one side, Aladdin knocked a throng of undead soldiers to the ground, swiftly ducking to avoid the energy orb and the swinging swords of ready minions. Dashing to the wall, Aladdin scooped both Iago and Abu in his arms before jumping against the stone and into the undead legion and landing on top of the wall. Aladdin quickly dropped Abu and Iago safely to the other side of the barricade, and turned to face Mozenrath.

Mozenrath shook with rage and shot another blast of energy at Aladdin, who ran the full length of the wall to avoid it, reaching the sandstone archway. Aladdin sprang over the threshold in one easy flip, somersaulting headfirst and easily landing on his feet to the other side of the gate.

Mozenrath screamed in anger at the agile street rat. "Why won't you die?!"

Another blast skimmed Aladdin's hair, missing him by inches, and destroyed the aged buildings that stood nearest to the gate. As they crumbled, Aladdin smirked at the sorcerer. "When will you learn that you can't win, Mozenrath?" Aladdin hopped off of the wall and hit the sand hard, the undead soldiers barely able to comprehend his sudden appearance, as he slammed into the multitude, knocking them all off balance. The first soldier held Genie's bottle up, so as not to destroy the glass, but another minion fell and knocked the vial free, sending it spiraling to the ground where it shattered, freeing the jinni from his trap. Undead soldier fell upon undead soldier, until the last in the line fell hard, knocking into Mozenrath and unbalancing him. The sorcerer collapsed onto the ground, spitting sand from his mouth and reaching up to blast Aladdin again, just as the street rat stood on the gauntlet that conducted Mozenrath's power.

"Hey, that's not fair! Get off my gauntlet!" Aladdin wrestled the glove from the ruler briefly and leaped back a few feet, triumphantly, to avoid the sorcerer's physical blows. However, an electric shock coursed through Aladdin's body as he held the gauntlet in his hands, shaking the hero and rooting him to the spot. Aladdin shouted in pain before falling to one knee, gasping for breath, the gauntlet falling to the sand.

Mozenrath kicked off the remaining undead soldiers and made for the glove, but Genie, newly revived, got there first. "Oh, looking for this?" The gauntlet instantly transformed into a large, pink oven mitt and Genie held it in his hands, forcing Mozenrath to stop short. The sorcerer glared at the jinni and held out his right hand, the flesh absent and the bone shimmering in the sunlight.

"Give it back!"

Genie shook his head, pointing at a few of the remaining undead and turning them into harmless yellow butterflies. "Aww, you know if you stand still long enough and a butterfly lands on you, it'll turn into a fairy." Genie flicked his fingers and the storm of butterflies swarmed over the sorcerer. "What, you don't like fairies? They make excellent dancers."

Mozenrath screamed in anguish and cast the butterflies from his torso and arms. "Give it back, you fool! Maghreb could descend upon this land at any moment!"

Genie shook his head and aimed his hand at the butterflies until they each disappeared with a bit of glittery dust. "Now, now, Mozzy, no need to get upset. We're here to talk, not to fight. So you two need to get along." Mozenrath shook with rage, the bone of his right hand trembling and clattering noisily. Aladdin rolled his eyes at Genie's suggestion. "Come on now, boys, you have to play nice. At least for now."

Mozenrath took a deep breath before sneering at Genie and Aladdin. "Why would I talk to the fool who may have killed us all? You deserve death, Aladdin, for your treachery and ignorance."

Aladdin clenched his fist angrily. "Look who's talking, you evil coward."

Genie stood in between the two, prepared to stop either one from murdering the other. "Come on guys, we need to work together for now! Maghreb is enemy to both Agrabah and the Land of the Black Sand!" Genie nudged Aladdin with his arm. "Come on, Al. We need answers, remember?"

Aladdin looked up at Genie and sighed dejectedly. "Fine. We'll give you back your gauntlet, Mozenrath, once you answer our questions."

Mozenrath opened his mouth to respond, but his thought was interrupted by the bellow of a horn some thousand yards away. The sound sent shivers down Aladdin's spine, and he and Genie both looked for the source of the noise. Mozenrath, however, gasped and moved toward Aladdin suddenly. "Give me my gauntlet! We have to get back to the Citadel, quickly!" Aladdin stared at Mozenrath stupidly and then to the edge of the horizon, where he could see a gathering shadow flooding the sand dunes. He looked at Genie, who shook his head in incomprehension. Aladdin gritted his teeth and took the gauntlet from Genie's hands. "Transport us to the Citadel, Genie. You still have to answer our questions, Mozenrath, before we'll give you back the gauntlet."

Mozenrath's eyes flashed in understanding and he tried to grab the gauntlet from the street rat angrily. Missing, he sighed in dejected defeat. "Fine. There's no time to lose."

Aladdin closed his eyes as Genie waved their group and transported them instantly to the highest room in the Citadel. Aladdin, ears ringing, did not immediately register his location change, but Mozenrath brushed passed him, waving his hand in the dark and summoning light from several lanterns.

Aladdin looked around and found Iago, Abu, Carpet and Genie staring at the room in mistrust. They were inside the Citadel, in what appeared to be a large chamber full of maps, books and disarrayed paperwork that covered the cold stone floors and rough wood tables. Mozenrath walked by the entire group to consult a map centered on a large round desk, with pins and strings adorning the atlas. The sorcerer fell into a great chair, inlaid with opaque ivory carvings, behind the wooden table and gave a heavy sigh.

"We should be safe here for an hour, perhaps two. The spell I've used to seal my lands will have worn thin in my absence, and it will not take Maghreb long to break it."

Aladdin handed the pink gauntlet back to Genie for safekeeping, and the jinni floated to the small narrow window in the corner of the room and gazed outside. "There's an entire army outside the city gates! Is that why there are some many undead soldiers running around?"

Mozenrath nodded. "I ordered them to multiple in my absence. They cover every inch of the city, except for my tower. They will provide a decent barrier between us and the wizard once the enchantment has been breached."

Aladdin walked to the table, placing his fists down on the wood and glaring at Mozenrath. "So, where have you been, Mozenrath?"

Mozenrath glared right back. "I could ask you the same question. Except I flatter myself in knowing more than you do." Aladdin grunted in resentment. He had quite forgotten how much Mozenrath got under his skin.

"What's going on? Who is this Maghreb guy and why is he trying to invade your lands?"

Mozenrath rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, he wants what every person who invades my kingdom wants. My power."

Iago and Abu both settled themselves on the table top, knocking over bottles of ink as they did so. "Did you get a jinni too, then? Is that why he's here?" Iago asked.

Mozenrath stared indignantly at the spilled ink and waved his healthy hand to clear the mess, his missing gauntlet revitalizing his health but minimizing his power. "I don't have the jinni. Aladdin does."

Genie turned from his place at the window. "He's after me? But I'm a free Genie, I can't grant him any wishes."

Mozenrath shook his head. "No, not you. The other jinni, the red jinni."

Aladdin gaped at Mozenrath before laughing. "I don't HAVE another jinni." Mozenrath narrowed his eyes at the news and scoffed.

"I hope for your sake that you are lying. If Maghreb has the jinni then we are as good as dead."

Aladdin thought quickly before smiling slightly. He had to fool Mozenrath into believing his cause, or else the sorcerer would only refuse to tell Aladdin the answers to the thousands of questions that raced through his mind. "Oh, the OTHER jinni. Of course. But I don't understand how Maghreb knows I have it and what he wants with it."

"I suppose it also escapes your comprehension as to WHY you don't remember in the first place?"

Aladdin huffed a little and shifted his weight uncomfortably. Mozenrath was truly irritating. "No."

Mozenrath laughed openly in the street rat's face. Aladdin glowered. "If you do have the jinni, it's amazing you can't remember." Mozenrath brought his hands together, his elbows resting on the arms of his mighty throne. "However, the more likely tale is that you lost the jinni and also your memory."

Iago yelled from his place on the table, lying right through his teeth. "If Al says he has the jinni, then he has it! This Maghreb guy got a hold of him and instead of killing him, he took Al's memory. Now we're trying to piece everything back together." Iago fluttered his wings a bit in indignation, as though the affront was to his person and not Aladdin. "Besides, look who's lecturing us on honesty. I bet your first lie was also your first word, huh, Mozzy?"

Mozenrath's nostrils flared at the jab. "It is Aladdin who had been causing havoc for the entire seven deserts, not me. I know little of Maghreb, and even less of Aladdin's adventures."

Genie prompted the sorcerer further. "So then what does Maghreb want with you? Or Aladdin?"

Mozenrath shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I do know Maghreb is working for the Sultan Shahyrar. The Sultan needs the jinni to continue his war against the entire seven deserts; without it he will be lost."

Genie crossed the room and stood next to Aladdin. "But why is Shahyrar attempting to take over? Years ago he was a kind and generous ruler. What happened?"

Mozenrath laughed bitterly. "Oh, you know, the same old story. Shahyrar married a beautiful princess whom he loved completely and blindly. And she, being like all women, decided she needed more and found herself a lover. Well, old Shahyrar found out and had them both killed, and before you know it, the Sultan has been marrying beautiful women daily and cutting off their heads come dawn." Mozenrath smiled at the thought.

Abu stuck out his tongue at the story, and Iago rolled his eyes. "And I bet he went through the harem of women in his kingdom, and now needs more to marry and murder, right?"

Mozenrath shrugged. "Possibly. Otherwise, he's gone insane with greed and jealously, and won't rest until he has overpowered every kingdom in the seven deserts."

Aladdin straightened up, scratching his neck and looking around. "And he needs the jinni to take over? The jinni that I have?"

Mozenrath nodded, gesturing to the map. "He needs only that jinni to cover all the lands in darkness. An old ambition of mine, actually."

Aladdin shook his head. "An old ambition? You mean you've given up your life of evil?"

Mozenrath growled at the notion. "Of course not. However, I've started to see things in a different light."

"Really? Maybe you could tell us where you've been then, eh?" Genie provoked.

Mozenrath looked around the room at the group of friends and then to the window, as though listening. He peered into every corner before tentatively answering, dejectedly. "I was captured by Maghreb's forces. They knew Aladdin already had the jinni, and they knew I was his greatest foe. They wanted me to find the jinni and kill Aladdin, which I gladly made to do, although I meant to keep the jinni for myself. However, Aladdin was no where to be found, and when I 'failed' my little mission, Maghreb locked me up and left me to die."

Genie eyed Mozenrath suspiciously. "And how did you make it out alive?"

Mozenrath suddenly closed his eyes, seemingly lost in a train of thought. He sighed deeply, and a small but brief smile lightened his features. "A woman who had also been, ah, _persuaded_ to join Maghreb's forces came to my aid. She nursed me back to life and here I am, wasting my precious time informing you of trivial facts while an entire army threatens my kingdom!"

Iago laughed plainly in Mozenrath's face. "Oh, looks like someone's trying to change to subject!" Mozenrath glared at the bird and flicked his hand quickly. Iago's muffled cries scared Abu, who ran and ducked for cover behind Carpet. When he looked back, Iago was transformed into an unidentifiable creature, and Aladdin stared open mouthed, horrified at the bird's appearance.

"What is that supposed to be?"

Mozenrath stared carefully at his fleshless hand and then at Genie. "You wanted a mule, I'm assuming."

Genie blushed slightly, shaking his extended pointer finger and thumb dramatically. "I like your idea of a lizard better, now that I think about it." He snapped his fingers and Iago transformed into his original self, although extremely indignant. Abu jumped back onto the table top and pointedly laughed at the irritated bird.

"I'm getting REALLY tired of turning into random things! Next time you do that you'll wish you'd never been born!" He took a swipe at Abu in anger, who jumped quickly out of the way to avoid the blow and continued to laugh at farther distance.

Aladdin raised his eyebrows at the bird. "Not now, Iago." Abu stopped his chattering and returned to Iago's side, patting him on the back sympathetically. Aladdin turned to Mozenrath and folded his arms over his chest, smiling confidently. "We'll help you, Mozenrath, but first we need to know more about this Maghreb guy. How powerful is he?"

Mozenrath laughed bitterly. "How powerful is he? More powerful than me, and I admit that resentfully."

Aladdin unfolded his arms in frustration. "Well then what can we do? He's more powerful than you and he's right outside." Aladdin turned to Genie, and spoke under his breath. "We need to find out more about this guy, and this other jinni."

Mozenrath stared at Aladdin, surveying his disposition. "Well we could use the jinni. Where is it? We could summon the jinni and destroy Maghreb."

Aladdin bit his lip at the idea. "Why this jinni? Surely Maghreb could just give Shahyrar another one from his collection."

Mozenrath raised his eyebrows. "What other jinnis? After Maghreb used each one he had them destroyed."

Both Genie and Aladdin gasped, and the blue of Genie's face began to drain and pale. "Destroyed? All of them?"

Mozenrath sneered cynically. "Yes, all of them. Once they served him, and could do so no longer he had their lamps destroyed. They were worthless as far as he was concerned. But the red jinni, from what I've learned, is the most powerful of them all. The magical laws do not apply to him: this jinni can make people fall in love, he can resurrect the dead, and he can kill."

Aladdin put his hand on Genie's shoulder and Carpet patted him on the back. "I'm sorry, Genie. I wish I'd have known."

"Surely you've learned this from the jinni already, Aladdin." At Aladdin's confused features, Mozenrath dramatically stood from his seat, his dark cloak swishing against the thick layer of dust on the floor. He walked behind the table to a nearby bookcase positioned in a dark corner of the room. His bony fingers glided over the volumes before tapping a large, red binding and summoning the book from its place. The book floated from the shelf and opened itself to the correct page before settling onto the table. Mozenrath motioned for the group to examine its page.

"The jinni was the last one hidden, locked away in a deep cave underground. Of course, Aladdin found it and has been using its power to subdue both Shahyrar's forces and also the rebels. From what I've heard," Mozenrath sneered at Aladdin, "you've become very powerful because of it. So powerful that you've killed many without hesitation. You also betrayed five of the seven rulers of the desert to their deaths."

Aladdin gasped at the news but shook his head resentfully. "I never did such a thing! If I had found—" but a look from Genie cut him short. "I would never use the jinni for that purpose."

Mozenrath cackled at the thought. "Oh, yes you would and yes you did. I've seen with my own eyes, Aladdin. You've become as ruthless as I am, perhaps more so; I don't think I would be capable of slaughtering children as they played in the streets, or mothers as they wept over the dead bodies of their young."

Aladdin gasped in horror and looked at the ground. Genie, Iago, Abu and Carpet looked at him, dumbfounded. "I could _never_ do such a thing." He looked up at his friends. "_Never_."

Carpet flew to Aladdin's side and circled the hero, displaying his trust in the man. Genie and Abu huffed at Mozenrath. "Al wouldn't do that! He's the hero, remember? You're the bad guy!"

Iago flew to land on Aladdin's shoulder. "And besides, we looked everywhere for Al, and if he'd been doing those horrible things we'd have heard about it." Abu murmured a quick, 'Yea!' before climbing on top of Aladdin's other shoulder. The companions stood tightly together, smiling at their old friend, the power of their friendship sickening the sorcerer.

"Well, isn't that nice? Aladdin and his crew of miscreants are one big happy family again. But that doesn't make what I said untrue." Aladdin shook his fist at Mozenrath.

"You said you weren't able to find me! How could you have seen me doing those things if you'd never found me?"

Mozenrath turned his nose up at Aladdin. "I never said I could not find you. I said I could not find you when Maghreb wanted me to. Or did you forget our last meeting?"

Aladdin turned his head, thinking. "I don't remember meeting you, Mozenrath. I'm sure I would remember the pleasure of beating you again."

Mozenrath rolled his eyes. "That's because you didn't beat me. You ran away like a coward; perhaps you sensed Maghreb's forces close by, because they immediately descended upon me and threw me into the dungeon to die." Mozenrath sneered once more at the street rat before examining his right hand with interest, not disgust. "And then we met again. You had been captured and sent to die in the dungeon with me, or by me, I'm not certain. But I was powerless and weak by that time, and you were strong still. You escaped and made your way back to Agrabah, I'm assuming, and I stayed imprisoned until that woman helped release me from bondage."

Aladdin was utterly confused by what the sorcerer was telling him. Was it possible that Aladdin has committed such atrocities without realizing it? Mozenrath swore he met Aladdin in the desert, and in the dungeons, but Aladdin could not remember a single thing. Could Mozenrath really be telling the truth, or was it all a trick? Aladdin quickly looked to Genie, his eyes focused on the gauntlet, to ensure that Mozenrath had not stolen it back through his scheme.

"That can't be true. How could I remember nothing?" Aladdin placed his fingers to his head, deep in thought. "You must be lying, Mozenrath."

Mozenrath tapped his fingers on the table sadistically. However, before he could offer a retort, a sharp blue light radiated from the middle of the ceiling, casting an omniscient glow over the table and tossing jagged shadows over the group. Mozenrath gasped, and quickly strode to the window, his cloak swishing in the sharp light. "They're penetrated the seal much sooner than expected. They'll be here in less than five minutes time."

Aladdin ran to the window and stood next to the sorcerer, looking out at the sight. "We can escape through here. If we leave quickly enough, we'll be able to fly behind the building and follow the easternmost cliffs until we reach the north." He looked up expectantly at his friends, who began to board Carpet hurriedly. "Come on." Mozenrath stared blankly at him in the pale blue light.

"You don't actually have the jinni, do you?" Aladdin opened his mouth to affirm the question, but found that the situation forbid him from lying further. He shook his head slightly before backing away from the window and toward Carpet. Mozenrath sighed heavily and then looked out at the window again. "Go, Aladdin. They're here for me, not you. You and your friends can pass behind the Citadel and take the path you described." The sorcerer seemed to breathe in the sight of the enemy ransacking his kingdom and smiled slightly. "But they will be after you soon. I wouldn't stay in Agrabah if I were you."

Aladdin gawked at Mozenrath and pushed him away from the window to gain his attention. "What? You could come with us, Mozenrath. I know we're sworn enemies, but we could offer you protection until we can both take Maghreb down."

Mozenrath shook his head and motioned around the room, laughing sadistically, insanely, but correctly. "There's no place to hide, Aladdin. Besides, I need to be recaptured. I escaped last time without the woman who saved me." He cast his dark eyes at the stone floor. "I need to free her from their bonds. The easiest way will be through capture."

"But you'll be killed! They want you dead, remember?" Iago shouted at the sorcerer from his place aboard Carpet.

Mozenrath smirked broadly before responding. "They can't kill me. And beside, I have no where to go." He looked at Aladdin and pushed the hero onto the flying carpet. "Go, you fool. Your time will come soon enough." Aladdin hesitated briefly, as Mozenrath looked at him expectantly. "I'll talk back my gauntlet now." Aladdin sighed, but held his arm back to Genie, who tossed the normal gauntlet to Aladdin. A slight pain ran up and down the length of Aladdin's arm as his fingers barely grasped its edge. He handed it to Mozenrath. "Thank you." Sliding the gauntlet on, Mozenrath's color began to drain again, and a sad smile crossed his mouth. Aladdin slid back and stood next to his friends, eyeing the sorcerer timidly. Mozenrath walked to his throne-like chair across the room, however, and calmly seated himself amidst the dreary finery. "Go."

Aladdin nodded, and kneeled aboard Carpet carefully. With one last look at Mozenrath, the hero directed the group out the window and out of sight. The city began to glow with fiery rage, and the sound of the crumbling structures echoed against the cliffs. Mozenrath stared at the map before him and then leaned back in his chair, smiling wickedly and closing his eyes as the army burst through the main door of the Citadel six stories below.


	4. Gone, part IV

Gone, Part IV

A few words to begin with:

First off, I would like to thank Cantare for her interest in this story. She and a few others are keeping this fandom alive and well, and her dedication to the characters and their development is truly inspiring. I had nearly given up hope of finishing this story at all, but her understanding and support made me realize that it still has some dedicated fans out there, and I know that the most frustrating thing a reader bears is a lack of updates for a story they enjoy. My apologies.

I have begun work to complete this story as best I can, and although I can't promise weekly or even biweekly updates, I will try my best to get this story complete by...the summertime. With that said, I can also assure you that I never go back on my word if I can help it. And as there are at least 3 more chapters needed to finish this story, I will try my best to keep things consistent.

A note on the chapter: I know that the goddess scene may be a bit confusing, especially since (DUH!), Aladdin is Arabian and NOT Greek (the mythology from which I took this idea), but if you have seen the series then you know of the Aladdin/Hercules crossover. The inclusion of the historical, not Disney, Greek goddess of death is therefore canon.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter, and the story on the whole. I would love to get constructive criticisms for how I can improve, and what you would like to see in the story. I already have my finale in mind, however, so I can't promise you anything yet. ;)

With that said, please read on and enjoy!

* * *

Aladdin and his friends stood perched on a far cliff in the north that wrapped around the Land of the Black Sand, watching the attack from above. Darkness had descended on the desert, although it was not due to the setting of the sun. Fire and smoke rose from the city, extinguishing all other light and casting dark shadows on the tallest towers. The companions heard the shrieks of the undead soldiers as they were torn apart by the sweeping tide of the enemy army, and Aladdin looked away from the sight, placing his hand to his mouth in disgust. Bloodshed in its simplest form dominated the city from the inner walls to the outer regions, and Aladdin felt responsible for the attack. Where was this ring that both he and Mozenrath so desperately needed?

Aladdin felt oddly torn. Mozenrath, his sworn enemy, had just helped him escape and in doing so sacrificed himself to Maghreb. Aladdin did not know what to do. Everything had changed so suddenly, and he felt heavy burdens weigh down his shoulders and chest, choking him from rational thought. Iago and Abu looked sadly upon the lands, huddled close together with Carpet offering them warmth from the cold winds of the evening.

Genie placed a hand on Aladdin's shoulder, taking the street rat's eyes off of the scene. "It's not your fault, Al. They were coming for him anyway. Besides, he'll be fine. He's always been your greatest rival, and if it takes us so much to beat him think how hard it'll be for Maghreb!"

Aladdin nodded, although his eyes stayed focused on the scene, as smoke began to pour from the Citadel tower at last. "I feel responsible. For all of it." Aladdin turned his back on the sight briefly to address his friends. "What if Mozenrath is right? What if I really did all of those terrible things out in the desert? What if Maghreb really is as powerful as Mozenrath says? What are we going to do? We have to protect Agrabah!"

Iago sniffled a bit before shaking his head. "The sorcerer just said that we shouldn't go back. They might be waiting for us there." Abu nodded his agreement sadly, and Carpet patted him on the back gently.

Aladdin seemed to acknowledge this point, but the horrifying cries from the Citadel shook him to his nerve. Mozenrath, his sworn enemy, was defeated. How could Aladdin do any better, especially if he didn't even know what he had done?

Truthfully, Mozenrath's actions mystified Aladdin as much as his answers. Aladdin was responsible for the deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands, and had betrayed the greatest leaders of the desert to their deaths. But was Aladdin even capable of such deeds? The street rat recalled his dream from that morning, remembering in vivid detail the murder and chaos that cast the land in dark, thick blood. In the dream, Aladdin had stood to the side, watching the events unravel in horror. But could it be possible that Aladdin was in fact the one committing the murder? The one causing the mayhem?

Suddenly, Aladdin heard the piercing laugh voiced by the hooded figure in the center of his dream the previous night. It was deep and throaty, a laugh that spoke of evil crimes and dismissive guilt. Aladdin concentrated on the laugh so much that he could hear it ringing in his ears, pounding through his brain, as though it echoed from the city against the cliffs. The laugh was familiar, it was sinister, and it was unlike anything he had ever heard before.

The laugh belonged to Aladdin.

The fog of the dream seemed to clear from Aladdin's mind, and rich detail came into focus before his eyes. Flashes of strange scenes—women crying, children huddled in the rain, and Aladdin laughing at them all, watching them fall before his power.

A single tear slide from Aladdin's eye and made its way down his sun-drenched cheek. The street rat fell to his knees in misery, as he recalled each image, so powerfully dramatic that it sent chills down his spine and pain to his heaving chest. They had all be killed, and for what reason? Aladdin saw the murders clearly and yet could not answer why so many had to be sacrificed before him. _So powerful that you've killed many without hesitation_, Mozenrath had stated. And Aladdin felt, deep down, that the sorcerer had been telling the truth. Aladdin felt an energy course through his arms that could attest to the fact. He had been powerful, nay, invincible, for a time, but he could barely keep from spilling his stomach to think what he did with such extraordinary and untamable power.

Genie snapped several more times before he was able to elicit a response from the fallen hero. He looked at Abu, Iago and Carpet, whose worried expressions demonstrated their concern for their friend. Waving his hand, Genie nearly knocked Aladdin's nose when the man quickly awakened to the scene and pushed the jinni's hand away. Aladdin looked at his friends waiting close by and fell back in the sand, horrified. He struggled slightly to push himself away from his companions, who followed his slow path as Aladdin dragged himself away from his friends.

"I—I am responsible. For all of it. For all of it!"

Aladdin fell soundly into the sand on his side, as he whimpered beneath the heavy burden of truth. Another tear spilled over his cheek and his friends could do nothing but watch as Aladdin struggled inwardly against his own demons.

Lost in a trance, the street rat could only see the memories that slowly reached the front of his mind. "It was me… I did it… I did it all…"

Iago, horror-stricken and afraid, punched Genie in the arm. "Do something! Aladdin's gone crazy!"

Genie looked at his friend sadly, but shook his head. "Aladdin? Little buddy? Please, we have to go back…" But his words were lost on the hero, who continued to tremble in the black sand. Abu approached Aladdin, panicked, but Aladdin pushed him away gently, and began crawling away from his companions, dragging his body through the thick, dark sand. The thoughts and images bombarded his mind and he could not escape the horrors he saw, and did not want his friends to see them. He was stuck in another time, another place, and the images swarmed his mind and clouded his vision. Muttering to himself incoherently, Aladdin dragged himself back farther until he reach a jagged rock and slumped against it for support.

How could he have done such terrible things? How could he have committed murder, have pillaged and destroyed countless cities, and how could he have forgotten? His past was not a blank any longer, try as he might to erase it from his mind. The images were terrible, horrific, and sickening. But Aladdin could not have done them. Aladdin was a hero, not a villain. He was an adventurer, not a coward. And he was a protector, not a killer.

Aladdin shook, from the misery or the cold, his friends did not know. Suddenly, he saw Jasmine in the far back of his mind, and felt her gentle touch on his shoulders. She looked at him sadly, not pitifully, and her reassurance ceased his tears from flowing. Her angelic voice sweetened his thoughts and mellowed his beating heart.

"You didn't know, Aladdin… you didn't know…"

Aladdin choked on the emotion that racked his body, his breath lost and his heavy inhalation of air straining his chest and lungs. He lowered his eye lids against the cool air of the evening, and the hot tears that welled beneath their rims burned through his skin and deep into his flesh. He was responsible for the death and genocide of hundreds of people, and yet he also knew, deep down, that there was something missing from the pictures he watched, some information missing from the whole story. And that something would tell Aladdin whether he was a murderer or a saint.

Sighing deeply, Aladdin opened his eyes and suddenly became aware of his surroundings. His friends continued to look at him, frightened and worried. Their expressions captured Aladdin's feelings at the moment, and he couldn't help but look away from their piercing stares. Aladdin wanted nothing more than to run far from the situation he had created and the situation he simply made worse by committing to his task, but he knew that the only thing left for him was to pick up the shattered pieces of his life and move on.

Jasmine could never marry him now. He would refuse her, shun her and abandon her again so that she would never know what atrocities he had committed, what sins he had performed. There was nothing left for him in Agrabah, Aladdin knew, and only one reason for him to return. He must save what little face he possibly could and leave his friends, his true love, and his life behind one last time and face the uncertainty of the future without them. He had to. It might be the only good thing he had done.

Explosions from the Land of the Black Sand shattered the silent setting, and Aladdin stood quickly, shielding his eyes and face with the back of his arms as waves of heat poured over his body. The flames that consumed the inner city began moving from the Citadel to the outskirts, and their beckoning spirals of shadow and fire called to Aladdin and his friends. The group watched sadly as the last of the city was annihilated by the crushing force of the inferno, which razed everything in its path, Aladdin and his friends the next target.

Genie, sensing imminent danger, began to pull the group away from the scene, literally pushing Aladdin onto Carpet. "Come on, we'll go back to Agrabah. We'll hide out at for a while. Maybe there are other clues there now that can tell us something more?"

Abu and Iago desolately heaved themselves onto Carpet, their faces illuminated with the rising heat of the flames without any emotion. Carpet moved back slightly from the mounting pillars of smoke, and Genie took one last look before turning to Aladdin. "Al? Little buddy? It's going to be okay. We're going to figure this out."

Aladdin stared blankly at the scene, his heart hammering and his mind wandering over the thousands of miles of torment and misery his body had embarked upon, betraying his heart and his conscious to almost certain death from the suffocating vigor of guilt. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Aladdin heard Genie's statement and his head nodded slowly, painfully, but he could do no more.

The flames rose high into the dark desert night, casting a dark orange glow over the dark black sand. The last of the buildings in the City began to crumble and fall, and shivers pulsated down Aladdin's spine, although his skin was oblivious to the cold night air. The heat from the city and the enveloping clouds of smoke tried one last time to stop the companions, but Genie directed Carpet skillfully over the cliff edges and around the inferno. Abu and Iago looked dejectedly at the scene, but not a body could be seen through the increasing force of the flames. As they crossed the desert, Aladdin could barely make out a small group of soldiers leaving the Land of the Black Sand, their faces swathed in silk masks, leaving only their cold, dark eyes exposed. Their leader sat astride a sinister black horse, which rose up in fright as the group soared through the sky. The same laughter rose in the air again as Carpet flew speedily over the desert dunes, distancing Aladdin from his past and his crimes.

* * *

_A cruel storm unleashed its fury against the quiet desert sky, billowing and swelling to its full size just as the cold rain began to fall. Flashes of lightening barked loudly, their echo cracking against the side of the cliffs and rushing through the night air with deft speed. The sand became heavy and clung to the worn soles of cheap, brown leather boots that drudged through the dunes, their heavy steps marking an obvious path that the winds swept clean, resentful against the markings in their perfect golden canvas. _

_The lightening cackled and illuminated the piercing stare of the young street rat as he surveyed the high rising cliffs and their sharp, ragged edges. Bracing himself against the harsh winds and rain, the man squinted at his surroundings, shielding his eyes and face from the severest of the weather. He stood amidst the colossal storm and faced his first obstacle, until he noticed a small, straight path that lie between a recessed division in the cliffs. Instantly, Aladdin continued his pace, his eyes now focused plainly on the narrow valley which offered a clear cut path through the mountains. _

_He carefully scrutinized the mountains, which seemed to give birth to the very storm that raged its might against the poor traveler, the mountains rising high into the sky where the clouds and lightening touched down cyclically. Shuddering slightly as the rain soaked through his thin and worn clothing, Aladdin marched straight toward the valley and examined the nearest stones that littered the base of the cliffs. His eyes lit up in finding the exact stone which had been described to him, a large rock flattened on its surface, but scathing when touched that contained what looked like a great brass ring in the center. Aladdin strained against the weight of the stone and he slowly pushed it through the heavy sand that gathered near the front of the rock, attempting to stop the hero from his course, pleading with him to turn back before it was too late._

_Aladdin took no notice of anything, his breath becoming shallow as his muscles tightened and tensed just as the cold rain beat down upon him mercilessly. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into nearly an hour before Aladdin reached his first destination, and slid the smooth stone onto a large recessed pit, which fit the exact curvature of the rock to an inch. With one last heave, Aladdin rammed into the stone until it sank low, filling in the crater and at once casting an eerie glow that rivaled the crashing lightening up above. _

_Aladdin stood back in awe as the stone lit up with a bright yellow light, and the hero covered his eyes with the back of his hand as the light filled the small valley completely, leaving no shadow between the mountains alive. Aladdin lost his footing in the sand just as the stone opened up completely, the new entrance dimly lit and beckoning silently to the worn and wearied traveler. Aladdin rested a moment on the sand, staring at the entrance vividly before he pushed himself to his feet and stood atop the smooth rock in front of the brass ring. _

_Through the thick pour of rain and the cracking of thunder as lightening brightened the air, Aladdin yelled with all of his might into the unheeding night sky, as nature warned and threatened him against this chosen path. "It is I, Aladdin, son of Cassim the adventurer, grandson of Mustapha the sailor. Reveal to me the path to the Ring!" Instantly, the mountains began to tremble and the sky lashed more furiously against the street rat, who stood stubbornly in the same place, watching the large hole in the ground. Stones began to fall from the sides of the cliffs, but Aladdin stood firm, the landslides never affecting his demeanor. After what seemed like minutes, stone steps began to form at the base of the pit, and more materialized after, forming a steep path below the ground. Once the ground stopped its creation of the steps, the mountains stopped shaking, the sky quit its incensed fury on the mountains, the rain evaporated as though it had never fallen, and the last of the rocks fell from the sky, leaving the street rat in silence and utterly alone._

_Aladdin could not help trembling at the path before him, the sudden stillness of the night rattling him to his nerves. He peered anxiously down the entrance, and could see dim light permeating the darkness of the desert night. He took a deep breath, and slowly stepped off of the large stone and down the steep steps, his heart hammering against his chest in the fearful situation._

_Aladdin journeyed down the steps slowly, taking his time and making sure to steady his footing on each set of stones. The walls encircling the steps were rigid and narrow, and Aladdin's fingers brushed over each as he made the journey down. When his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the underground cave, Aladdin noticed the walls opening up on either side until the stairs grew large in length and steeper in step. Dim light could be seen wrapped around each corner as the steps began to spiral around and around and around until Aladdin grew dizzy with worry and apprehension. After what seemed like hours, the street rat rounded the corner and arrived at a great stone entrance with two large golden torches guarding the enormous entrance that rose fifty feet into the ceiling. _

_Aladdin slowly peered through the opening and made his way in the next room, gasping as he did so. Set before the starving hero was a vast feast of fresh fruit, roasted meat, and boiled vegetables, arrayed in enticing rows that showed the path to the next room. Aladdin made his way past the tables, his stomach rumbling in vain protest. The hero has strict instruction which he knew would be key to saving his life and he did not want to repeat the fiasco that occurred in the Cave of Wonders. _

_The smell of the feast was intoxicating but as hungry as Aladdin was, he could not allow the food to tempt him. He soon smelled his favorite dishes, which seemed to appear instantaneously before him, seducing his appetite. Aladdin could not help approaching the table on this left, which towered with cooked meals and fine cuisine, spilling onto the table and floor. Aladdin looked at the food bitterly, knowing he could not have the food in its entirety, but he noticed a few grapes here and there that looked deliciously, and they were so small that Aladdin was sure he could get away with eating just one. He took the small fruit in his hand and held it up to his face, smiling brightly at it and savoring its very smell. Aladdin slowly inched the food toward his mouth when his eyes observed large, decrepit creatures standing just behind the tables, a thin curtain blocking their full and horrifying appearance. He realized what he was about to do and quickly placed the food back on the table and stepped back in fear. _

_The creatures remained silent and still behind the cool silk curtain and Aladdin knew he had saved himself in just the nick of time: had he taken a bite, he would have been crushed by the overwhelming size and assured anger of the monsters that guarded the cuisine. Aladdin shuddered slightly in recovery and shook his head, gulping in realization that he almost destroyed his chances of saving the kingdom. _

_The figures loomed in the background of the room, the red silk conveying only their menace and will to destroy. Aladdin urged himself forward, passing the rest of the feast on his way into the next chamber when he spotted a small, broken bit of pomegranate, its seeds spilling onto the floor. Aladdin looked curiously at the fruit, and bent down low, his eyes running over their ruby red color. The juice of the fruit lay in a puddle on the floor, staining the sands crimson. A realization appeared before the traveler, who marveled at the circumstance, practical or not. The color had inspired him to merely take the fruit, not eat it. The guardians could have not objection to that, right? Aladdin reached out gingerly, taking the small piece between his fingers and quickly wrapping it away into his pocket. The hero broke into a quick run as soon as the fruit vanished from sight, and he tumbled into the next chamber, but with no deafening roar following. _

_Roaring fires lighted his way into the following room, where massive piles of gold and silver littered the floor of the cave and brightened the dank walls with a warm, golden glow. Aladdin knew the rules for this room as well: don't touch anything. He looked around at the riches and splendor and knew that the room contained more gold than the entire seven kingdoms combined, but he knew that it was set as an illusion, and knew that any greed he felt would bring him instant death._

"_At least I don't have to worry about Abu this time," the hero muttered to himself, and then instantly felt foolish for doing so. Who could hear him in this silent tomb?_

_Aladdin continued his slow and steady path through the room of riches, even tucking his clothing tight around him to avoid touching the mountains of gold, which seemed to multiple until the very path in front of Aladdin was blocked by it. He sighed in frustration; there was no way to get around the diamonds and jewels which cascaded like a river across his path and only opening. Aladdin looked around, attempting to back track until he could find the right path that would take him into the next room. _

_He surveyed the scene through squinted eyes, the bright light from the gold burning his vision with their radiance. As he scanned the room, Aladdin took notice of a small and grimy rug that lay on top of one of the treasure chests to his right. He peered at the rug closely, trying to determine whether or not it was magical. Aladdin grew nervous as the rug lay flat and thin, as though it had been worn through from constant use. Aladdin took a deep breath and walked over to the rug, grabbing it from the top and carefully avoiding the gold beneath it. _

_He breathed deeply with relief when nothing started shaking and shouting and melting. He stepped back away from the chest with the mangy rug in his hands, which remained still and void of magic. Aladdin went back to the obstacle of gold blocking the next chamber, and placed the rug on top of the gold carefully, centering it squarely between the length of the piles. He then backed up slowly, taking care not to step on any gold and then ran straight up to the pile with the dirty rug on it, jumping deftly onto the rug and then onto the other side, where he rolled and tumbled slightly, standing proudly on the other side of the gold and in the entrance to the next chamber. He laughed, relieved that he had not touched anything and then quickly continued forward into the next chamber. _

_Aladdin gasped as he entered the next room, for the circular path of the dampened and cool walls cut open to reveal large counter tops, upon which sat perhaps one thousand different rings. In the center of the room stood an enormous figure of a woman, cast in gold, and adorned with dozens of different rings, each varied in size and color, which covered her entire body. Aladdin groaned at the very sight. He had journeyed across the seven deserts, discovered the cave and made it to the final chamber to find one ring amidst a thousand. Which one was the right ring? The street rat scratched his head and shook out any loose dirt from his hair before turning to his right and beginning his way around the room. _

_Aladdin remembered the parchment the sorcerer had given to him and pulled it from the inside pocket of his vest. He unfolded the old and frayed parchment, which revealed a crude drawing of a small gold ring with a larger red circle around it. Aladdin did not understand what the ring was supposed to look like exactly from the drawing, but he knew at least to look for a golden ring with some form of ruby attached to it. _

_His hands sorted the rings methodically, as his eyes traced the edges of the counters and walls. He noticed deep engravings set in the stone walls encircling the room, and he peered closely at the damp walls to discover any advice they might offer. Rough impressions had been cut into the stone, no more than centimeters deep which formed different figures and pictures that Aladdin could not examine without more light. Quickly looking around him, he reached for a large torch that stood next to the entrance and after breaking it from its place carried it to the wall he was investigating. _

_The impressions, illuminated with the bright light from the torch, instantly became visible to Aladdin's eye. He gasped in astonishment, pictures unlike any he had seen before searing into his memory and horror. The figures of men stood holding different sized rings of different colors, all centered around the same statue of the woman which Aladdin, glancing over his shoulder, was near. In the next sequence, those same men lay in thousands of different pieces, their bodies torn apart by some unnamed force while the statue of the woman remained still and unmoved. _

_Aladdin gulped apprehensively and turned to face the center statue, which seemed to loom more maniacally now that Aladdin noticed. Still the figure, cast in gold, did not move, and Aladdin suddenly realized what fate would bring to him if he happened to choose the wrong ring._

_Well, that was good to know._

_Aladdin continued his search for the gold ring that matched the drawing, and his task seemed more daunting than before. He picked up a few rings and cast them aside. Generally his instincts took over at this point, directing him to the area of the one true ring and allowing him to make a hazardous but correct decision. But lately Aladdin's luck had failed him; first in his encounter with Maghreb and then in his encounter with the rebel forces. The sands of time had harden the street rat, sharpening his edges until he was astute enough to understand that a lucky feeling was not the best educated guess one could make. _

_Aladdin, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to assure himself that the statue had not moved, lifted the torch and began combing over the counters in a more general approach. His eyes caught glimpses of red and gold which his hands latched onto, placing more and more rings in the center table before the deadly figure of the woman. He followed the length of the room twice before he had satisfied himself with enough rings, certain he had not missed the most obvious pieces. As he turned to face the statue, however, he was horrified to discover that every ring he had place upon the center table was no longer there. _

_Aladdin turned quickly about it, the torch swinging wildly left and right as he scoured the room for the cause of the disappearing rings. But he did not need to exercise his eyes so; the statue on the center piece, in one swift movement, stood before the hero and towered over his nimble frame._

"_You gathered many rings, chosen hero, but none that could satisfy me. You must choose a ring worthy of a goddess if you wish to leave this tomb alive."_

_Aladdin took two giant steps away from the enormous, golden, and deadly looking statue before answering. "Um, sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to find it for you…"_

_The statue, its sapphire eyes gleaming in the dim light, reproached him. "You did not look at the engravings on the walls?"_

_Aladdin hesitantly looked around him, realizing he had missed the carvings on the opposite walls. "I must have missed that one."_

_The golden statue barked in response. "You wear my patience. Choose the one ring worthy of a goddess and I will grant you the ring you seek."_

_Aladdin stared at the statue dumbly, quite taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He did not know which ring to choose, and he certainly didn't know what material criteria fit the ring for a goddess. Jasmine preferred pearls anyway. _

_But one thing Aladdin had learned was that when a seven foot golden statue tells you to do something, you better do it. The street rat turned around, slowly making his way around the room again, this time making a much closer inspection of the jewelry placed on every ledge and counter. From the corner of his eye, Aladdin watched the statue follow him about the ring, seemingly prepared to strike him down or eat him or whatever his doom might entail should he pick the wrong one. _

_Aladdin, never stupid in life or death situations, realized that the statue was eagerly awaiting his demise, so much so that whenever he approached a particular area or ring, it seemed to react in what Aladdin considered a negative way, its arms stretching from its body, its fingers sharpening to blades. The hero edged away from any counter when the statue did this, and discovered which area of the room must contain the ring from this process._

_Deciding he needed more information to make his educated guess, and because his intuition urged him so, Aladdin decided to question the goddess as much as possible, without angering her. Aladdin mused from his experience with women that angering the golden statue was probably not a good idea. His brain racked possible questions, but in the end his lips blurted out the first thing that came to mind._

"_So, you come here often?"_

_The statue stopped its track and stared coldly at Aladdin. "What does that mean, mortal?"_

_Aladdin turned to face the statue and nonchalantly brushed the question aside. "I was just curious. Seems to me that an all powerful goddess like you wouldn't be stuck in a dead-end place like this." The hero shrugged and turned his back to the statue, continuing his offhand search._

_The goddess stood taller than before, not in wrath but in indignation. "I am here for a reason. I am the goddess of death and the underworld. I reside within this chamber only when summoned. My minions received your arrival and informed me of your presence. I do not dwell here."_

_Aladdin racked his memory for some sort of information regarding tales of the goddess of death from the other kingdoms he had visited, but could recall only one thing. "If you dwell beneath the earth, then you are also goddess of everything within that realm. Right?"_

_The statue did not respond, so Aladdin continued. "And if that's true, then you are also goddess of all gold, silver, and stone which hides beneath the earth. Right?" _

_Upon hearing silence in response, Aladdin turned to face the statue, which did not look happy. He quickly tried to amend the situation. "I mean, such beautiful diamonds and jewels here probably make no difference to you, mistress of all treasures."_

_The statue placed one hand on its hip, oddly reminiscent of another woman Aladdin knew. "What is your point, hero?"_

_Aladdin raised his head up high and marched straight toward the goddess, stopping just in front of her. He looked up at her with confidence and a smirk. "My point is it's a trick question. There is no ring in this room which could satisfy the goddess of gold and ruby."_

_Aladdin held his breath for what seemed like hours before the statue responded. "In all my years, no man has ever had to courage to suggest such a thing." The statue froze for a moment and Aladdin felt his heart hammer wildly in his chest, but the statue looked down and smiled at the young hero. "You are correct. No ring in this room could tempt me." Aladdin let out a long sigh of relief, and held his hand to his head. _

_The goddess walked back to her throne and sat down regally. "However, since you can not offer me a ring, I cannot give you the ring you seek."_

_Aladdin turned toward the statue, aghast. What could he offer a goddess? He needed that one ring, without it everything would be lost. In frustration, he dropped the torch to the ground and slapped his hip, but his fingers graze a large lump on his left side. His mind raced yet again before he walked over to face the goddess on her throne. "No, I cannot. But I can offer you something better."_

_The goddess, still towering over him even in sitting, looked down at Aladdin. "And what is that?"_

_Aladdin cursed himself under his breath and prayed to Allah that his plan would work. Mind racing, he walked the goddess through his reasoning. "A goddess of death and the underworld sees many riches and many wonders, but none so great as the one which mortals tend to and grow themselves. I am but a poor street rat, not a hero, and thus have nothing which could tempt a goddess's vanity, only her hunger." Aladdin pulled a small morsel from inside his pocket and, unwrapping it, held it before the goddess herself. "This is a pomegranate and these its seeds. May their color entice you and their flavor satisfy you, goddess of death."_

_The statue looked sharply at the fruit which appeared in Aladdin's hand, and then back at the hero. She glared piercingly, and opened her mouth to speak before closing it abruptly. Scowling, as though defeated, she took the seeds from Aladdin's hands and held them close to her face. She sniffed the fruit slowly before placing the seeds in her mouth. She closed her eyes as the flavor sank into her taste buds._

_Suddenly, the room shined with a hot, golden light which permeated from goddess herself. Aladdin shielded his eyes against the light as he squinted at the sight, trying to determine whether he'd made a mistake in giving the statue the fruit. When at last the light died, Aladdin turned to find the most frightfully beautiful woman he had ever seen standing before him, holding out her hand as she reached for more of the fruit. She had long, darkly rich hair that curled around her temples and sharp brown eyes that affixed themselves to Aladdin's panicked ones. Her robes glowed white in the dusky light but her radiance did not come from her clothing—her very skin seemed to radiate beauty and purity. She laughed lightly at Aladdin's fear, and her smooth, crisp voice calmed his nerves._

"_I had forgotten how divine the natural order of things can be. Surrounded by wealth and jewels, I became infatuated with the luster and brilliance of the underworld. But I had forgotten that all that glitters is not gold." She placed the seeds in her mouth and closed her eyes once more, savoring the juice. "Thank you for reminding me of this."_

_Aladdin stood transfixed in the corner of the room, his arms still held in the shielding position, his mouth wide open. He quickly became aware of himself and shifted into what he hoped appeared to be a nonchalant demeanor. "Oh, you're welcome. Glad to…help."_

_The goddess smiled kindly as she took a seat on the large throne. The gems and gold fell out of the sides of chair as roots emerged from the ground, encircling the throne and blossoming into large, five-pointed flowers red in color. Aladdin approached her slowly, taking in her words with considerably attention._

"_The fruit you carried so far is known as the Food of the Dead. It is called this because it is, in fact, my favorite fruit." The goddess placed her hand to her chin and laughed lightly. "How did a street rat become so clever as to please a goddess?"_

_Aladdin coughed sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, I don't know. A street rat has to be clever in order to survive." He looked at the goddess and gave a crooked smile. "And I might have had a little help."_

_The goddess smiled kindly upon Aladdin. "Yes, I know. But you discovered the fruit by chance, and only true courage could have prompted you to follow your intuition." Aladdin pondered this statement for a moment before the goddess continued. "You wish to take the ring to stop another from unleashing its terrible power. It will not work."_

_At this, Aladdin nearly choked in surprise. "It won't? But…why?"_

_The goddess's smile disappeared, and her tone reminded Aladdin of a mother scolding a young child. "The ring is too powerful for any one mortal to manage. And though you have been kept alive by that man, he means to betray you. You will not keep the ring from Shahyrar. He will have it soon, and its power. And once you leave this place," the statue motioned about, "the next time you see the ring you will not recognize it against that which you treasure beyond all worlds."_

_Aladdin swallowed hard at the thought, but interrupted the goddess before she scared him senseless. "I need to take the ring from you. If I don't, even more terrible things will happen, and they will happen sooner than I can imagine." The hero looked down upon the ground as visions flashed before his eyes, forcing him to shut them tight and lock them out of his mind. "But I thank you for your warning, and I promise to guard over the power of the ring as best I can."_

_The goddess's stare pierced Aladdin when he dared to meet her eye, and he looked upon the ground once more when she delivered her final warning. "Then take great care, hero, and know that absolute power cannot be gained without absolute sacrifice. Your fate will decide if you are to be the true master of the ring or another nameless victim lost in the greed and glory of this world."_

_

* * *

  
_

Aladdin felt hollow inside. He, Genie, Iago, Abu and Carpet sped deftly through the icy desert night, the cold wind lashing down upon them from all sides as they approached the city of Agrabah, but the sight of the palace did not lift his spirits as it did the last time he entered the gates. Now, he only felt hopelessness sink his heart, his spirit understanding what he must do even if his heart was unwilling.

Carpet arrived outside of Aladdin's shack, and the hero stumbled blindly from the rug and onto the hard stone floor. He sank to his knees and looked around him, memories of his childhood and after flooding his mind. Young boys laughing, jumping from ledge to ledge as though it were an adventure; ducking beneath fallen beams as the city guards ran past him; teasing Abu from the other side of the room with an extra bit of apple for the night; leading Jasmine to the steps and revealing the magnificent view of the palace and beyond. And then new memories filled his mind, overshadowing the happy ones: mothers and fathers and children running for their lives, fleeing from his sight, their screams piercing the night air and mingling with the smoke and stars.

But the street rat knew what he must do. He had to leave. He could not stay and be haunted by the screams, the pain, the torturous memories he knew would haunt him until he knew how and why they had occurred.

He could not even see his future now, at once so bright and dazzling before him it had been like a dream. Lost in the embrace of the woman he loved more than anything else, laughing with his friends-turned-family, and smiling down upon the city and knowing that he was accepted, loved, and happy. What was it his mother had always said? "Look to the future, Aladdin, for the past is only a dimly lit shadow that will not light your way." But where was that light now? And for that matter, where was that shadow?

The street rat's friends could do nothing to help their friend, and the misery of that helplessness pushed them to the side of the room. They did not stop Aladdin when he circled the room over and over, a lost look on his face and slight tears in his eyes. They did not stop him when he called to Carpet and with a last, fleeting look upon his friends, flew off into the night. They did not stop him, could not stop him, though they didn't know why.

Aladdin and Carpet soared over the sleeping city and although Aladdin had issued no instruction to Carpet, the magical creature flew to the place Aladdin knew he had to go to: to say goodbye to his Princess one last time.

The storm that had been unleashed its fury on the Land of the Black Sand seemed to have followed Aladdin and his friends, so that when Aladdin flew across the city of Agrabah he was pelted by a cold wind. Only upon reaching the palace did the storm break slowly, light rain cascading in small droves upon the marble balcony.

Aladdin gently stepped from the rug, balancing easily on the thin railing though his mind raced with a thousand excuses and apologies. He watched as the thin curtains fluttered in the light wind and he espied his sleeping princess rise from her bed and stand beyond the satin sheet. He saw her figure, her lovely hair blowing in the breeze and her loose clothing flowing freely about her shivering frame, but her face remained hidden in the shadow. He stepped fully on the balcony as Carpet backed away, flying back to the other side of the city.

Aladdin walked slowly to Jasmine, his footsteps echoing against the smooth stone and against his ears. His mind could have been empty also, for as far as Aladdin knew he saw only of the princess behind the curtain, her body quivering either in fear or in cold, the hero did not know. Just as he reached the ends of the curtain, she spoke out against the silent night and broke his heart into a thousand more pieces.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?"

Aladdin pulled the curtain away slowly to reveal the young woman behind it, tears swimming in her eyes and down her face. He cupped her cheek softly and brushed them away, but her eyes searched his with such immediacy that he stopped to look at her, hoping she would understand everything from a single stare.

"I…I have to go. I can't stay here," Aladdin cast his gaze away as he brushed a stray strand of hair from Jasmine's face.

"Why not? You've only just returned. And if you leave again…" her voice trailed off as she stepped back from her hero and unconsciously hugged her body, grasping for some warmth. The cold she felt, however, had nothing to do with the night chill.

"I've….learned things. I've started to remember what happened, and I can't stay here. I'm a danger to everyone."

The princess's eyes focused sharply on his as he made this statement. "What have you learned? Why did you leave?"

Running his fingers through his hair, Aladdin scraped his mind for some excuse to deliver, so as not to tell her what he knew. If he hated himself at the moment, it was nothing to what he would feel if Jasmine were to know all that he had done.

As the silence expanded into the night air, Jasmine turned and retreated back to chambers, aware that she would get no straight answer from the hero. Her chest swelled with disappointment, frustration, and sadness and she could not bear to look at him as she delivered the news. What did it matter though? He would be gone within the hour. She stopped before she reached the curtain, and bowed her head so that he would hear her.

"Aladdin… My wedding will take place tomorrow. I am to wed Roseau. He is the only one who can protect this city should the rebellion reach our gates."

Aladdin gasped, and the air around him suddenly choked his very thought. He had truly lost now, and it was all he could do to not run and hold Jasmine until the last six years had melted away.

"Jasmine, no. You…you can't…."

The princess stubbornly refused to turn toward him, and he repeated her name with urgency and anguish in his voice until she spoke harshly, her words slicing the air like the blade of a sword. "I have to, don't you see? Don't you see how things have changed? I am no longer the naïve girl you fell in love with! I have learned to rule this kingdom through my father's failing years, I've learned to sacrifice things no person should be expected to sacrifice!" She choked slightly at this, and stared blindly at the mocking stars in the sky. They were content; why not she? "I am changed, Aladdin. I am dead inside. If I marry Roseau then I have a chance to rebuild everything that I've lost."

Aladdin empathetically shook his head and turned the princess around to face him. "I know you think that it's your duty to protect the city, Jasmine—" But she cut him off in anger.

"Duty! That's right! It is my duty to protect and serve the people of this city, Aladdin, and not to follow my heart! I was born into this responsibility; I cannot run away from it like you have!"

Aladdin felt as though he'd been physically slapped, so sharp and direct were Jasmine's words that he didn't know how to respond. The stunned silence only prompted the princess further. "You used to understand obligation just as I did, and it never grieved you to follow your heart and your duty because they were more often than not the same thing. You used to be here for these people and for this kingdom, but when you left that night six years ago you abandoned any and all commitment to me and my people."

Aladdin snapped in anger, unable to stop the words from pouring past his lips. "I never abandoned my duty to this city! For all that I know I saved Agrabah and its people by simply disappearing!" He looked down at the same puddles of rainfall gathering on the marble, and stopped himself from elaborating. He did not wish to hurt Jasmine any more than he already had, and he could not look at her when he at last spoke. "Jasmine, I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you. But I was bound by duty, same as you, and it ended up killing us both. You are the ruler of this city, but you cannot be a fair ruler if all you know is pain and regret."

Jasmine gasped out a sob and choked on her words. "I will be a fair ruler because I have agreed to stand besides a fair man. The red prince will support this city and his own and we will be the better for it." She turned around again, rubbing the palms of her hand against her arms as though from habit, seeking comfort that was not there. "I lost everything, those days and weeks and months after you left, Aladdin. And I realized there is nothing for me now but to accept my responsibility and forget about the past. There is nothing for me."

Aladdin shuffled forward, unaware that he was even moving. "Is this the woman you've become? Cynical and jaded? Your head may be telling you that this farce, this marriage, will be right for you, right for the kingdom. But you can't lie to me, Jasmine. Your heart doesn't want this."

Jasmine turned to face him fully, anger welling up inside her like a balloon. "And what do you know of my heart? You left me the night before our wedding, Aladdin. You disappeared, and now you return and expect everything to be the same?"

Memories swam past the eyes of the street rat, enveloping his vision for the time. He saw himself laughing merrily with Jasmine, his fiancée, his soon to be wife. She was already a blushing bride, eager for the morrow when she would wed her love and find great delight in all parts of her life. Her eyes twinkled with delight, and Aladdin felt his chest heave with exhilaration…

But in an instant that image was lost, replaced by an angry face and eyes full of tears. Jasmine repeated her statement, thinking that Aladdin had not heard her, but he had, truly, heard her for the first time.

Aladdin left Jasmine the night before their wedding? He was already so certain of his guilt in countless thefts, riots, and murders. But it was a new type of monster to walk out on this woman, this woman who had loved him so much, the night before their wedding, only to return six years later with no memory and no answer.

But it wasn't his fault! How could it be? There was no way he could have been forewarned of what was to happen… He was tired of being blamed, especially since the only thing he had felt since his return was utter and complete hopelessness. And who had been the one to cause that pain?

So although Aladdin and Jasmine had never argued to this extent, never said more than a few snide remarks in bitterness and half-anger, they both rounded on each other now with equal fury. Aladdin was the first to regain his voice. "When I did return, you were the one who pretended everything was normal! You held me, you kissed me, and all the while you were engaged to another man!" Aladdin shook with anger, but only part of it was directed at Jasmine. It seemed as though his infuriation at the entire situation was causing him to explode, here and now, at the one person he never wanted to hurt.

"I'm sorry that I betrayed you, Aladdin. Believe me it was unconsciously done. But after six years…I deserve more than you can give me."

Aladdin was now within inches of Jasmine, both staring maddeningly at the other, both with tears in their eyes. "And how is that, Princess? The only thing I've ever been able to give you is my love. And still, I offer that to you freely, but you've rejected me in the harshest way. Marry the red prince, if that will make you happy. You and I will never be the same, that's true, but I never knowingly hurt you, and I would have never left unless I was truly needed. I know that I hurt you, deeper than I will ever know, and I can atone for those crimes now. But I think the only way for you to be happy is to follow your heart."

Jasmine obstinately pivoted, her face inching closer to Aladdin's. "And where does my heart truly lie, then?"

Aladdin's heart hammered heavily in his chest, revealing the answer forthwith. His voice softened and as the muscle in Jasmine's face relaxed, he cupped her cheek softly. "Right here. Where it has always been."

Jasmine emitted a dry sob and suddenly her lips met Aladdin's, both crushing down on the others with no inclination as to who had made the first move. Aladdin picked his princess up, pressing her body tightly against his, their bodies entangling awkwardly. They kissed like it was their first, soft, tender, full of love. But they also kissed like it was their last; fervent, hungry, and full of passion that could never be fully realized, just as the storm broke fully and with it a rain of tears and sorrows that made the earth weep for more.

Jasmine relished in the heat of Aladdin's body, the scent of his body—he always smelled of the earth and the rain. Her heart knew so much pain, and yet she wanted to kiss the street rat, to savor his taste and his touch and his scent, knowing soon that she could never know it again.

Eternity, commonly an elusive interlude, lasted for only a moment for the hero and the princess as they clung to each other, desperate to discover more and yet hindered by their reality of princes and paupers, blood and rain.

It was Aladdin who broke the kiss first, tearing away from the princess in a sudden upheaval of guilt and remorse. How much pain he had caused her, and she to him, but Aladdin knew, even in his finite wisdom, that the part of his past where he had loved this woman was over. He had to let her go. It would be best for them both, indeed, for her to marry the red prince and forget about him even though he would never forget about her.

He pushed Jasmine, literally and emotionally, away from him for the last time. He had to let her go. Had to—did not want to, but when had he ever done what he truly wanted? It must have been years. "I'm sorry, Jasmine. I will love you until the day I die, but I can't stay." He choked out a sob. "I have to go."

Jasmine cast her eyes upon the marble as the rain sleeted hard against her face and body. The moment that Aladdin had pushed away from her, she felt the absence of his heat, his warmth, and was certain that she would be forever cold and forever barren of true love. But she did not look at him, could not look at him, when he called to Carpet through the noise of the storm and headed off into the darkness without a second glance.

He had to let her go.

"But where is he? Where is Mister Hero?"

"Look, kid, I don't know how you got up here, but Aladdin is gone and he won't be back for a while."

"Why not?"

"He had to go and confess his love and undying devotion to a woman he can never have, and then leave her to marry the rich prince who she's only marrying to stop the rebellious invasion from entering the city, and then he has to go and figure out why he did some really horrible things and find his memory and all the while try to stop the evil sultan from gaining control of the magical ring that no one can find."

"…Oh."

Genie smacked Iago against the cushion and scolded the mischievous bird. "Enough Iago, this poor kid is never gonna want to be a hero now! Sheesh." The jinni turned toward the child and smiled kindly. "Al just had to go and take care of some grown-up stuff. But I don't know when he'll be back, so I think I better take you back to your mommy." Genie looked up at Abu. "Where does he live?" Abu shrugged and crossed his tiny arms, pointing them in both directions, and Genie glared at him in annoyance.

But the small boy pulled on Genie's hand to get his attention. "But I don't wanna go home! I have to find Mr. Hero! It's important!"

Genie picked the little boy up and set him down upon the smallest seat in the corner. "Okay, little buddy, but I don't think Al is coming back soon, so why don't you tell me what's so important."

The child looked skeptically at the jinni and shook his head empathetically. "No, thank you."

Genie chuckled slightly, bemused but slightly riled. "Why can't you just tell me? I'm Al's best bud, and I will tell him everything you tell me." Genie transformed suddenly to a young boy scout, complete with badges of honor, and held his hand to his chest. "Scout's honor."

The boy looked skeptically at the jinni before responding. "I have to tell Mr. Hero. Besides, you're a changer, like that bad man." The boy frowned slightly. "And you're a stranger. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers!"

Iago flew over and leered at the child harshly. "And you needed to break into our house to tell us that?"

Genie opened his mouth to reprimand Iago, but stopped short at the appearance of Aladdin, drenched in the rainfall and shaking because of the cold. He appeared to be in some sort of trance: his eyes were unfocused and distant, and he did seem to realize that his friends sat waiting and worrying over him in the cold of the hovel. "Al! You're back so soon. How did it go…?"

Aladdin eyes were red and swollen, and the rain mingled with the tears that Genie knew must have only stopped because of pride. Aladdin did not cry in front of his friends. But the jinni decided not to push the matter and instead turned to address the unwelcome visitor. "Okay, little guy, there's Alad-" Genie began, but turned to see the boy run the short steps to the hero and fling himself onto Aladdin's chest, who awoke from his spell at the curious sight.

"Oh. Hello. What are you doing here?"

"Mister, mister! I came to tell you, I wanted to warn you—I remember when I saw you afore! I remember!"

Aladdin carried the little boy to the other side of the room, away from the window and frail curtain that blocked minimal amounts of wind and rain from entering the shack. Genie followed him and handed the hero a towel as he sat down. The little boy clung to him as though life itself were at risk.

Aladdin reeled from the sudden change of heart. Just moments ago he'd said goodbye to the woman he loved more than air, more than life, and had silently wept the entire trip back to his tiny hovel. He had meant to gather a few of his things and then depart from Agrabah, leaving his friends be for their own safety and security.

Aladdin was so convinced of his own guilt that he'd been prepared to continue his cold and pitiful demeanor, even if it hurt his friends and loved ones. He needed to escape the bonds of the unknown, work his way from the tangle of queries and questions which threatened to unbalance the last strings of his sanity.

But now he was staring down at a little boy, who apprehensively gazed up at the hero that he idolized and worshipped. The boy shivered against the cold that blanketed Aladdin, and the hero hastily covered the little one with the spare towel to keep from soaking in the wetness that entrenched Aladdin's body and disposition. As he kneeled down to sit, Aladdin let the boy stand next to him so he did not drip on top of him.

"What did you need to tell me then?"

The little boy's face lit up with importance and he held his chin up pointedly as he stood against Aladdin's knees. "I remember when I saw you, that's all. I remember cause it was my birthday." He leaned in toward Aladdin conspiratorially, covering the side of his mouth with a hand in a dramatic whisper. "I remember cause my momma said I shouldn't play in the streets with my sword, but my papa had given it to me for my birthday and I needed to kill the evil wizard." He smiled widely and held out his arms in triumph. "See! I remember!"

Aladdin has listened closely to the child's tale and his mind went numb from the revelation. Could it possibly be true?

Aladdin's astonished look did not encourage the little boy, however, who seemed to shrink back as though he had said something wrong. "It's okay, Mister Hero. You was okay when you was here."

Aladdin realized that the boy wanted his news to be happy, but for Aladdin the report only stirred his conscious even more. What had driven him back to Agrabah? Was it possible that he had intended to spread his bloody campaign to even his homeland? Or did this information prove that Aladdin had never committed the crimes that both Mozenrath and Aladdin's own memories seemed to certify?

Aladdin smiled gently at the little boy, and Carpet patted his head in a friendly manner. "It's okay… Satygraha, right? That's your name?"

The little boy pouted for a moment. "No, that's the name my mama calls me. But everybody else calls me Saty."

Aladdin quickly amended his comment. "Oh, right, sorry. Is it okay if I call you Saty too?" The little boy nodded eagerly and Aladdin jumped back suddenly as the child brandished his sword.

"I am Saty, protector of justice and hero to all the people!" He jabbed his sword hurriedly in a random pattern as Iago flew over to land on Aladdin's shoulder.

"If this kid is the protector of justice then I'm a member of the Tiki Room."

Aladdin waved the bird off absently, before kneeling before the child and gently removing the sword from his hand, lest they all suffer serious bruising. "It's an honor to meet you, Saty. But I need a favor, hero to hero, okay?" The little boy nodded, seeming to understand the gravity of the request. "Can you tell me on which birthday you saw me? How old were you then and how old are you now?"

Sticking his tongue out in concentration, the child seemed to search his brain for more of the memory. "I'm 9 and one half now, and I thinks it was on my…." He jumped up suddenly, throwing a hand into the air. "I was seven! Seven, seven, seven!" He giggled and clapped his hands together and folded his arms confidently across his chest. "What else do you need to know?"

Aladdin chuckled and looked up at Genie. "Didn't you say that there were reports claiming I'd visited the city about two years ago?"

Genie nodded slowly, registering the new report. "Yeah, but most of the people who had claimed that you'd returned had been beggars off the street and we honestly couldn't take them seriously. Most of them made up tales to tell us for some extra gold."

Aladdin frowned, and turned back to the boy. "What street were you playing in, Saty, when you saw me?"

The little boy pulled Aladdin to the window, where the rain had died down but continued to push through the thin curtain and into the hovel. Saty pointed fixedly to the right, a few streets from the hovel. "It was down there, that's where I meet the evil wizard all the time and where we do battle."

Genie peered over the edge and looked in the same direction. "That's Karadat. If you had come back that night, Al, then you slipped through the eastern gate and around that way." Genie followed the bleak streets around the desecrate buildings and homes. "That street isn't very safe though," Genie said, turning to face Saty. "Does your mama know you play in that street?"

Saty smiled shyly, and turned away from Genie, only managing a noncommittal shrug. Genie only sighed. "Kids today."

Aladdin kneeled next to Saty and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Did you notice anything else? Was I wearing something unusual? Did I look tired? Was I carrying anything?"

The child shook his head. "No, you was wearing what you're wearing right now. Only you was wearing a red fez. He touched the top of Aladdin's head, searching for the small hat. "How come your hair is so nice, huh, Mister?"

Aladdin breathed in a laugh and shrugged. "Was I with anybody when you saw me?"

Saty nodded but did not elaborate, and the entire group seemed disconcerted and roused. Iago flapped in front of Saty's face in agitation. "Well, who was Al with? Was he a good guy or a bad guy?"

Saty opened his mouth to respond but did not need to; a deep and mystic voice sounded from behind the fallen support beams in the corner and drew the instant attention of everyone in the room. "Aladdin was with me, and I shall allow each of you to make your own decision regarding that last question." Steeping into the light, the old blind man Fasir frowned at the group that he could not see, a young woman huddled in the shadows behind him. "Thank you for telling Aladdin this story, Satygraha, but your mother calls for you through the rainfall and we do not want to keep her worried, do we?"


	5. Gone, part V

Gone, Part V

* * *

It was time, the Sultan decided. Time to heal the anguish of his heart.

No greater crime had ever been committed, no vice so full of malevolence and immorality, no torture as great as the one he had been forced to bear. He was a victim in the plot, innocent and unfortunate, but one who bore the pain with amazing resistance and calm. He ignored the severed beating of his heart strings and the onslaught of tears which threatened to spill onto the grand marble floors. His head trembled with the depraved blood that attempted resuscitation, and his face burned in highlighted humiliation as the royal vizier told him of the plot. How could he have been so blind?

He had loved her dearly, more than he would have ever admitted to anyone but her. She was his desert rose, his nightingale—when he dreamt of angels or fairies or goddess, he dreamt of her. He had been so unlucky to have remained unmarried for such a long period of time that when he at last found her he had been exonerated by his kingdom and council. The people praised the virtues of the couple: the sultan's benevolence and the sultana's strengths. They complimented each other in more ways than one; whereas he was too old, she was too young; whereas he was too compassionate, she was too unkind; whereas he was too gullible and too unquestioning, she was too guarded and too vindictive.

But the sheer arrogance of the tryst, the haughty conceit that filled the pair with such condescension! To assume that such meetings and such affection would not be noticed by the sharp eyes and hungry curiosity of the court! That not one of the dozen noble families living within the palace would see or hear or deduce the passionate transgressions in the open garden was utter idiocy.

The Sultan was not fool, and not a man to be taken so lightly. Surely the two must have understood the possibility, the potential, the _promise_ of his wrath, given the depth of their indiscretion? He was a decent man, a generous ruler, and sympathetic friend, but to commit such offense was no mere lapse in judgment. They knew the full extent of their wrongdoing and what was worse—they continued to perpetrate the passionate crime again and again and again!

As he listened to the royal vizier describe to discovery of the plot, and the evidence which undeniably linked the two together, the Sultan had already made up his mind. It was not the time to show mercy or leniency, despite his compromising nature. They would not be granted clemency or compassion. They were the wrongdoers, the evil plotters, the dangerous villains. They robbed from him, and betrayed him, and laughed at him right under his nose, a nose so accustomed to weeding out the liars and traitors of his kingdom that it failed to observe the smell of rebellion within his own household.

As the sun soaked through the honeycombed ceilings of the palace and emitted ethereal light through the trellised windows, the royal vizier finished his pronouncement and eyed the Sultan warily. He, also, was no fool, and knew that this moment would define the Sultan's reign, and in so doing define his own purpose. He planted the seeds for the very idea, watered it and pruned it, until its twisted vines of lies and pain tugged sorely at the ruler's heart.

He focused on the Sultan's face more insistently than ever before, searching the poor man's eyes and lips for any anger or resentment. But the Sultan looked at the floor, and then at the sun streaming into the chamber, and then at the small pool of water that flowed into the throne room from the courtyard. And with this vision he made his decision.

"Bring them forth, Maghreb. Bring the entire court. But reveal nothing."

The sorcerer and trusted councilman nodded heartily, glad to escape the wrath that he hoped was imminent in the face of this betrayal. Would the ruler but realize the universal truths that Maghreb himself already attested to! No one should be trusted and no one should be held close to the heart, given the weakness and susceptibility of that organ, not to mention its necessity for ministration. He turned sharply on his heel and exited the chamber, a devilish smile playing on his lips as he imagined the scene to come.

The Sultan rose from his throne, disgust dwelling deep within the pits of his stomach. Angrily he kicked at the round vases which adorned the sides of the square room, and they toppled over with a resounding crash. He could see the curious looks this noise garnered from just beyond the gardens outside the chamber door, but the faces he did not see nor their presence did he register. Shallow breaths overtook him and felt his pulse racing wildly, as though contorted into impossible arrangements. He was not a quiet man by any means, but he had learned to control his anger when necessary. Decorum and tradition dictated that he calm, lest the servants and his council come running from the citadel outing.

Lost in a stupor, the Sultan could only stare reflexively at the fountain waters, which tidied and pooled in the small recession of stone. Beyond the irregularly placed marble columns laced with filigree laid the Sultan's favorite structure: the fountain of the lions. His eyes traced the fine figures of the twelve roaring creatures surrounding the plain stone basin, and the courage and strength they evoked made him shudder and steel so that he looked away, determined. He would be the roaring lion, strong and resilient to the tremors of the human heart. He would be the slayer of evil, the conquistador of sin. The water would wash away all of the troubles in the world, and he would not rest until such was observed.

The soothing melody of the water stole his attention, and he rounded again on the fountain. It stood majestically in front of the many pavilions amidst an array of colors and scents that rose from the flower garden lining the four marble runways. From each of these runways flowed the water, into the four quadrants of the palace. He walked to the fountain and sat down upon its edge. The glimmer of light reflecting from the pool made him squint, and it was then he noticed the inscription beneath the rim of the basin. The Sultan touched his fingers to the words lightly, brushing his fingertips like feathers across the carving.

_"...Such a translucent basin, sculpted pearl!_

_Argentic ripples are added on it by the quiet dew_

_And its liquid silver goes over the daisies, melted, and even purer._

_Hard and soft are so close, that it would be hard to distinguish_

_liquid and solid, marble and water. Which one is running?_

_Don't you see how water overflows the borders_

_and the warned drains are here against it?_

_They are like the lover who in vain_

_tries to hide his tears from his beloved..."_

It took less than an hour's time before the royal court filled the throne room. The Sultan sat wearily on his throne, but each time a member of the court entered his shoulders stiffened and his eyes saw blood. He refused to even look at his council. They lined the walls of the room, offering the sultan an unobstructed view of garden. A few exchanged social remarks on the fine craftsmanship of the newly renovated courtyard, and on the grandeur of the fountain, but they also edged away from the pool that flowed at their feet, afraid.

At last, the sultan's beautiful new wife entered the open chamber, crossing the courtyard and fountain in front of her husband proudly, haughtily. Married for barely a year, the sultan worshipped her every movement, and despite her young age he treasured her advice and counsel. And in her step, the men could see this: she knew how much influence she held and yet she did not overtly abuse it. She was still fair and still empathetic, but stronger than her husband and more resolute.

The council bowed respectfully, but each man kept his own eyes trained on her. She was a rare sight to behold: in a kingdom where dark ravenous locks and light skin were the pillars of beauty, the sultana possessed long tresses of bronze, highlighted with streaks of gold. Her olive skin glistened in the heat of the early morning, and her fiery opal eyes surveyed the room with vivacity. Her crimson gown drifted listlessly across the decadent stone floor, the hem barely touching the water's edge before the silk soaked up the stream.

The sultana bowed gently before her husband and took her place at his left side. Like the sultan, she stood proudly but with a hint of subtle softness and control which the ruler lacked in his current agitated state. Facing the courtyard and the council that surrounded them, she lightly grazed her hand against the hand of the sultan, the brief touch sending electricity down his spine. Still, he could not look at her.

"I trust that everything fares well, husband? You were missing from breakfast this morning." Her voice dripped with sweetness, as unlike his cold demeanor as the moon differed from the night—and yet how similar the two were in their nature, as the moon and sun both light the sky in their respective phases.

"I was busy running the kingdom, my desert rose. Maghreb had many insightful discoveries he wished to impart upon me. But do not think me callous for such. _I_ would never miss a meeting with you."

He shook her hand free, and she immediately held it in front of herself. His wife appeared unusually chastised, but said nothing. Her face had fallen, and she exchanged a sideways glance with one of the nobles of the council. He, too, looked worried but had no words to speak. The room finally fell silent when the royal vizier took his place on the Sultan's right side. Maghreb stood arrogantly, and the court shrunk in his presence, every man fearful to catch the sorcerer's eye. They knew which snake sputtered secrets to their ruler, and each man prayed that the royal vizier, in his seemingly infinite knowledge of the court and the kingdom, did not outcast them in front of the others.

The royal vizier cleared his throat, and motioned for the council to bow in the direction of the sun, citing allegiance to the sultan. Still he sat mournfully, lost in thought. Shahyrar normally observed every tradition, every custom, and his actions puzzled the court and his wife. But their curiosity grew even further when the Sultan stood before they were able to rise; anger and resentment welled inside of him like magma.

"Faithful consortium! I stand before you a new man. A man with strength and power; a man with courage and wisdom; a man who means to remake his image in the reflection of shadow." Voice shaking with rage, his eyes locked with every member of the council, and their fear escalated in the presence of his fury. "You who have been with me long know that I am a kind and gentle king, one who strives to serve this kingdom with humility and respect. But there are some among you I can never respect again, now that they have laughed and spat in my face, trampling upon my generosity and making me appear as though a fool!"

The sultan moved slowly across the length of the room, standing before the councilman nearest to the entry, nearest to the water. His hands folded behind his back, he glared at the man in suspicion. "You, brother Abencerrage. You have served me well these many years. You are a devoted and dedicated member of my council, are you not?"

The older man looked away from the sultan's eyes, and his nails bit into his palms in fear. "Yes, my lord. The most devoted and most dedicated."

The sultan smiled cruelly, and the man visibly shuddered, so unfamiliar with an angry sultan that he did not know the words to appease the leader. Sultan Shahyrar turned to face the man straight, and he leered beneath his downward gaze.

"The most devoted and most dedicated, you say. The most vile and most despicable, I say." Laughing humorlessly, the sultan moved forward in the line to address the next man. "And you also, Brother Abencerrage. You and your father and brother and cousins number many on my court. Are any of you to be trusted?"

The still youthful man, new to politics, spoke the first thing that came to mind. "We of the Abencerrage family are the most trustworthy, sire. As trustworthy as any politician can be."

Sultan Shahyrar eyed the man skeptically. "Perhaps that is the problem I face, then? I may be better off disposing of the whole lot of you." Shrugging lightly, the sultan made his way to the front of the room, not noticing the worried glances that the many brothers of the Abencerrage family exchanged beneath burrowed brows.

Reaching his throne again, the sultan sat down peacefully. But his eyes bore the rage of a storm. "Stand before me now, Brother Ibn Abencerrage."

The youngest man on the council looked fearfully at his many relations and allies around him, eyes wide and hands shaking. He had not been on the council long, but his time thus far had been peaceful and composed. The two brothers on either side of him nudged him forward, and he stumbled out of line, nervously glancing at his family before he stood before the sultan.

"How do you fare, Brother?" The Sultan appeared to have held in his contempt for the man before, and now unleashed his venomous state without reservation. "Has your term been just and fair? Have I not offered you great standing as a trusted advisor and close friend?"

The younger man gazed briefly at the sultana before speaking, who nodded imperceptibly. All witnessed the exchange, including the sultan.

"You have, my-y lord. Y-you have been nothing but kind to me."

Sultan Shahyrar bowed his head back, staring coldly at the young man through narrowed eyes. "Then I wonder if it was my kindness which caused your betrayal."

Ibn faltered. "Sire?"

"Answer me plainly. Why have you been meeting secretly in my courtyard in the dead of night, entering into my private chambers, and sleeping with my own wife?"

The silence rang loudly in the ears of each man as this announcement was made. Only the sultana, in alarm, let out a low, painful cry from her husband's side. The young man who stood in the middle of the room fell to both knees and shook his head back and forth, forth and back so that his mind swam with memories, both honest and treacherous. But he had no words to defend himself against such an accusation.

"It is true then? You have been meeting secretly in front of the willow tree each night after midnight?"

Ibn shook his head, but tears began to well in his eyes as panic set in. He could not look the sultan in the eye.

"And you have been meeting in the sultana's private chambers, and my own, to exchange affections?"

Ibn Abencerrage now began to shake uncontrollably, out of fear for himself before the wrath of his king.

"And you have been lying to me each and everyday, as your father and brothers and cousins have lied for you?"

Ibn was young and foolish, and having committed such betrayals in passion he knew not how to reconcile his sin. His predicament was unsalvageable, but he recognized his true loyalty. "They have nothing to do with this! They know nothing!"

"LIES!" The sultan bellowed, finally standing up before the throne. As Ibn shook in fear before him, the sultan shook in fury. His arms rose powerfully from his sides and the rich robes he wore made him appear as an incensed snake. "They knew of your actions and they lied to cover your sins!"

The young man looked directly at the sultana now, and opened his mouth to say something tearfully. But the sultana cut him off. She suddenly emerged from her shadowed corner and fell before her husband's feet in repentance.

"Please, my lord! Have mercy, have mercy!" She began to weep, and she clung desperately to his robes. "We did not know—"

"That you would be discovered?! That I would learn of your betrayal? What of our son, Rose? What have you done to him?" The sultan leaned down, taking his wife's hands in his and pulling her face upwards. Her tears continued to spill before him and she trembled on her knees. In eyes that once held love and devotion, she now found hatred and contempt. "You dare to sin in my palace, in my kingdom, before Allah? Then you shall not be judged by me in this lifetime. You will be a sinner in the hands of an angry god." He slapped her across the face, and she fell backwards, into her lover's embrace. Ibn struggled to hold her close and he whispered prayers into her ear, rubbing her back as she sobbed. Her tormented cries pierced the normal tranquility of the palace, and echoed sharply against the arabesques cradled within the dome ceiling. She turned toward the sultan in her cries, and spat out cruelty.

"You are an old man! A senile and foolish old man! I could never love you the way I love Ibn! Never."

The sultan cried out in rage, and balled his fists against his side. His vehemence overwhelmed him, and he swung out at the couple again, knocking them both on their backs. But they held onto each other in distress. The council stepped forward to intercede, each man angry at the ruler or the couple in turn. Only the royal vizier stood firm in his place, silencing their calls and stopping their movements with a low and simple spell. The sultana continued to cry even as the royal vizier issued a call to the guards that reached the farthest corners of the palace. He placed a gentle hand on the sultan and spoke to him in hushed tones.

"Patience, my liege. Your hands will not be bloodied in their sin." The sultan could only stare at the couple and their embrace, breathing heavily and wiping his mouth free of the saliva that had spat forth in his anger. He looked over his shoulder at Maghreb and shook his hand free.

The palace guards entered, shocked to find the council frozen behind an invisible line, silently shouting and waving their fists, while the sultan stood enraged before the lovers. They quickly captured the sultana and the young man, holding them before the sultan while awaiting orders. Both looked fearfully at the ruler, his decision resting upon their lives or their deaths. The council fell silent and still without Maghreb's spell to force them.

Sultan Shahyrar looked around his chamber and counted the number of Abencerrage men within the lines. He sighed inwardly, the extent of the betrayal surfacing in his eyes as beads on an abacus. He turned to the guards but addressed the entire room.

"Do not let any member of the Abencerrage family from this chamber. Bring Ibn and my wife next to me."

The guards stood sentry at the entrance to the room and outside of it, still offering the sultan a plain view of the fountain and courtyard while two officers took the struggling lovers and separated them, hastening them to their corner. Maghreb moved further into the shadows behind the throne, dark eyes glistening in the shallow light. Every attention was paid to the sultan now. Some men were fearful and others inwardly exhilarated at the defeat of their political rivals.

Sultan Shahyrar sat down wearily, rubbing his temples before placing his hands together, as in prayer. Looking past the concave ceiling and into the heavens, he silently asked for forgiveness and strength. And to this the royal vizier answered him.

"You must, my liege. It is the only way." The sultan nodded blearily and motioned for the guards lining the walls to bring the Abencerrage brothers forward. Ibn cried out for his family, but it was already too late.

"Slit the throat of each Abencerrage man and let the blood drain into the pool." The guards moved furiously at the uproar from the council, but the roars were merely yells of pain and sorrow. The council could do nothing, and no man tried to save the poor noble kin as the guards quickly subdued their two dozen relations. The sultan turned toward Ibn and his wife, and there was no compassion in his face.

"You, Ibn, will watch your family be slaughtered as you have butchered my soul." The young man wept harder and emitted a low cry, full of anguish. The sultan then turned toward his once-true love. "And you, my wife, shall watch as your lover's blood mingles with the water, as I will watch your blood and your life drain from your body." The couple struggled against their captors, but could do little more than melt against each other. "You have forced me to this point. It is your fault that so many die and that your own lives end."

As the bloody massacre began within the chamber, the sultan stepped outside of the room, passing the first Abencerrage brother as the guards cut viciously into his neck. The blood stained the white marble floor of the chamber and quickly mingled with the water, the pressure from the fountain forcing the water red as it rushed back to its source. It stained the lips of the twelve lions crimson.

The sultan turned as each brother was murdered, their screams cut short as the knife cut through their vocal cords. Blood gushed forward, splattering on each nobleman who watched the massacre, horrified. Ibn and the sultana clung desperately to each other, fearful to even watch the family die at the hands of the guards. Then it was Ibn's turn, and the soldiers forcefully pulled him from his lover's embrace, and her scream as the guards cut halfway through his neck echoed sharply throughout the courtyard. Then it was the sultana's turn, and she cast a beseeching gaze at the sultan standing at the head of the fountain. But he looked at her only coldly, nodding perceptibly to the guards who struggled to slit her throat, the knife cutting across her skin several times before the loss of blood ended her life. Her body fell face-forward into the water, now colored scarlet, and her light hair flowed loosely in the ripples of the waves.

The sultan sat down on the edge of the basin and stared down at his wife's silent figure. Hatred and disgust welled deep within his belly, and his eyes reflected nothing but the red shade of blood. His hand fell from his side, and his fingers grazed another carving in the side of the stone.

_The fountain is the Sultan, which smothers with his graces all his subjects and lands, as the water wets the gardens. _

_

* * *

  
_

It was so very quiet in Agrabah.

The sun's setting had broken the busy tidings of the day, but it did not dispel the intense heat that burned through the miniscule grains of rock like a fiery demon, constantly roaring down upon the city all through the night. The air was stifling thick and chokingly stale so that thieves and villains were not the only ones to don hijabs and turbans to hide their face. There was no wind to cool the skins of tired citizens or wipe away tracks from the desert sand, somewhat disconcerting for the hero who wished to avoid being seen by all.

Nighttime in Agrabah was always peaceful and serene, the bright jeweled stars in the sky illuminating the many facets of the city and palace. Yet the night also worked to mask the deep alleys and crooked districts that housed bandits and beggars alike. It was through these streets that Aladdin navigated, using the shadows and moon as his guide to transverse so far, so quickly. He hid his face in wraps and cloaks, masking his appearance even to his own eyes, let alone the eyes of the prostitutes and pickpockets that roamed the destitute corners of the kingdom.

He bounded over a crumbling wall near the Thieves Den in the Karadat neighborhood, deftly landing on his feet with grace and ease. His warm brown eyes, hidden beneath the shadows of his brow, scanned the streets quickly looking for watchful eyes or ears. It was so very late at night that he could expect trouble from the outlaws of the city, but also so very late that no peaceful citizen or rambunctious guard would disturb his trek. All the better for it, too, since such people would be the first to recognize him. But the hero saw nothing; he walked on, slowly, evenly, drawing no unwanted attention to his presence or person.

Rich fragrances swirled in the dismal heat, odors of leather and incense and roasting meat prickling the sharp senses of the hero. But Aladdin could only smell the scent of jasmine drifting through the night air, and the aroma quickened his pulse and dizzied his mind. He knew he was close now to the palace. A few more walls blocked his way, and he either cleared them with a steady run and great leap or by springing from the walls and ledges, capering up the sides of buildings with the poise of an acrobat.

At last, from his perch on a tall building, Aladdin could see the high rise of the grand barricade guarding the palace, its sun-soaked hue still bright even in the throws of darkness. He saw the tips of the tree branches cradling the top of the wall, desperately trying to overcome the barrier. Next to the wall laid a small pile of crates and barrels, obviously put out by the royal kitchens for the vendors to reclaim. Aladdin shook his head at the obvious breach in security; it would be so easy now to climb over the palace walls that he wondered at the possibility that only he thought of breaking inside.

And so he scaled the height by use of the wooden containers, easily reaching the top of the wall and quickly disappearing from the city's view. He nimbly descended, barely using the tree branches for balance, and landed with a soft thud on the dry grass. There was no one in the garden, and only a fraction of the bright moonlight cascaded on the marble courtyard. Running quickly across the length of the square, he hid amongst the shadows, silently, deftly narrowing in on his destination and moving fastidiously with great stride and purpose. Beneath the balcony he stopped.

He had crossed the entire city and broken into the palace walls in less than an hour's time, but the difficult part in his journey still lay ahead. How would he manage to reach the balcony, some twenty stories up?

But the answer lay in the ring. Aladdin reached into his cloak and pulled the untarnished ring inlaid with an array of rubies and with his fingertips ran circles over the edge, murmuring a wish beneath his breath as he closed his eyes and slipped the ring onto his finger. He was transported, instantly, to the balcony's edge without any flash of light or smoke to mark his passage. It seemed the ring's power work invisibly, intangibly, without the force of the jinni to carry out its order.

For the first time that night, Aladdin's heart pounded heavily against his chest and light perspiration lined his upper lip and temple, having nothing to do with the heat of the night. He was nervous now, fearful even, of what lay ahead that he remained on the edge of the balustrade for an indefinite amount of time, peering through the sheer curtains that moved softly in the absence of wind. The hero raised his arms to balance his step, and when he saw no movement from within the room he breathed deeply and whispered her name to the darkness.

"Jasmine."

Nothing stirred from within or outside of the room. His heart, rather than relaxing, seemed to skip beats now. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment that haunted his dreams and tore open his heart every day and every night for the last four years. He would finally get to see his love, his life and feel her skin and her hair and know that she was more than just a memory, but a real woman, flesh and blood. His woman. But he could not reveal himself to her, even in the darkness.

Aladdin hesitantly stepped down onto the marble flooring of the balcony, and slowly, as if in a dream still, he walked to the shiftless honey colored curtains and latticed frames that partitioned the open air and indoor chambers. With only the bright light of the moon to guide him, he reached the division with ease and stared intently inside, but could not discern furniture, let alone a figure sleeping; the luminosity outside and the shadows within worked against his vision. Sighing slightly, Aladdin counted to three, coupled his hands together and slowly drew them apart to reveal the bedroom inside.

He stepped through the gossamer curtain and waited until his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. It seemed like hours, days, weeks—no, _years_—before he was able to perceive the shape and outline of the room, and immediately his eyes fell upon the central drapes that wrapped around the princess's sleeping chaise. Silk hangings sectioned off the room, and several assorted rugs, each with embroidered gold and silver coils, covered the floor along with dozens of cushions and chairs. The furniture was painted with gold and many of the perfumes and lotions that lined the chiffonier were hand crafted bottles with gold filigree. There was more illumination here than actual light, as the shallow beams of the moon caused the gold and silver articles to glow. Aladdin could see the oval picture frame in which Jasmine had placed his image, although he did not observe his or any likeness inside.

His line of sight directed at the furniture, Aladdin immediately tensed upon seeing a shadowy movement next to Jasmine's bed. He dropped to a fighting stance, his knees and his arms bent in action as he glared at the being that stood beyond the bureau. He crept closer to the table, and witnessed the creature grow larger in his vision until he could not see the whole of the thing. Not until he was nearly in front of the cushioned chair did he realize that the shadow he stalked belonged to himself, echoed in the mirror, and he silently laughed in foolishness.

Aladdin reached up and pulled away the hooded cloth that covered his face and nape, revealing his nose, mouth, chin, and hair. He looked hard at his reflection in the dim light. He was changed, that much he could tell; but never having had a mirror in his hovel or bedroom at the palace, Aladdin could not say which of his features had warped the most. He placed his knuckles down against the cool glass top of the table and bent closer to the mirror. His eyebrows had grown thinner in the four years that he had been away, as had his lips. His skin was deeply tanned from countless days in the sun, but it had lost its healthy glow, and he looked almost ashen. His eyes told of the most toil; their warm chocolate color remained, but they looked tired and lined with more age than Aladdin could attest to. He had harsh lines around his eyelids and there were heavy bags above his cheekbones that confirmed too many worries and not enough sleep.

Aladdin shook his head at the sight, troubled at how weary he appeared. The rebel army, already disposed to mutiny and revolt, would not be commanded by a man who looked the better part of a beggar. The hero mentally chided himself for such failings, and resolved to get more sleep before the next battle, some two days away.

The photo on the table looked up cheerfully at him and Aladdin grasped its edges to bring it closer to his face. He was younger when the picture was taken by Genie, who had attempted thrice to explain the detailed functions of what he called a 'camera' before he had lost the street rat's interest and just taken the shot. But in the lighting, Aladdin could see only starker differences between the man in the mirror and the man in the frame. He could not recall his hair being so straight, nor his cheekbones being so high. His eyes looked darker in the image than Aladdin had seen in the mirror's reflection, so much darker that they appeared to be blackened out completely.

Aladdin felt the picture frame fall from his fingertips as he realized with horror that the man in the photo was not him.

The glass shattered immediately upon contact with the hard granite floor, and its pieces splayed over the rugs and cushions, tearing the photo in two. The hero backed away from it, alarmed at its noise and its revelation, until he knocked straight into the bed of his sleeping Princess. She stirred immediately.

Aladdin jumped back farther when he looked upon Jasmine, who by then sat straight up and rubbed her eyes blearily. She wore a simple negligee of lavender silk, her hair free of her crown or hair ties so that it sprawled over her shoulders like midnight waves. In the darkness she did not see his halted stance near the foot of her bed, and Aladdin thanked the heavens that he had avoided detection. He felt the presence of the ring as it burned briefly over his fingers, and he quickly muttered another wish as he wiped its golden frame. He felt a cool sensation kissing his skin as though he had stepped into a cloud of misted fog.

Instantly, Aladdin knew that Jasmine would never see him, even as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting and peered, suspiciously, in his direction. The jinni in the ring had allowed him to blend with the shadows until he became part of the darkness, and he breathed a sigh of relief, although he stifled it still as he realized that the spell may have only made him invisible, not soundless. He watched his love as she stood before her bedding and nimbly stepped toward her bureau, reaching for a small string to ignite the golden lantern overhead.

But Aladdin reached out and grabbed her waist just in time, as her bare feet traced the broken shards of glass across the carpet. She gasped in shock at the touch, and spun around to discover its source. But Aladdin, adapted for quick movement and agility, released her and moved out of the way as she struggled forward against her perceived invisible foe. When her hands did not make contact with anything, she blinked several times and looked about her surroundings, tensed. The hero couldn't help but smile; she was a fiery fighter who went with her instincts, and Aladdin could tell that she sensed someone else's presence within her chamber.

But just as suddenly, the Princess's beautiful face fell; her eyes appeared clouded and unfocused, and she closed them, her head tilted to the side as she grew lost in thought and memory. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, despite the thick heat; she brushed her hands against her figure as though in yearning, in a dream. She turned away from Aladdin and stepped around her small armoire and turned on the bright light of the lantern.

Aladdin's heart broke into a thousand pieces when he saw the true form of his princess without shadow or darkness to blur her figure. Her hair was revealed as unkempt and dull against the shine of gold about her room, her skin much more pallid and broken. Her eyes had lost their sparkle, their shine, and she looked so small and petite that Aladdin balled his fists to keep from reaching out and holding her.

Jasmine knelt down to finger the pieces of broken glass and wood that struck up haphazardly against the ground linen, and swept the pieces up in her hand in one quick motion, discarding them in a jar by the foot of her bed. Her hand lingered on the paper picture and she turned it over to reveal, as Aladdin had suspected, the face of another man, unknown to him. Sadness ran like a river down his body, and his heart lurched in anguish and misery. He was not the man in the picture anymore, and the thought tore his spirit in two.

But confusion overtook his pain when Jasmine ceased looking at the photo and threw in unceremoniously into the trash with a sigh. She sat down in front of her nightstand and looked at herself in the mirror, desolation etched into the sharp lines of her face. She looked weary and fragile, like a porcelain doll that had grown old and antiquated although it remained a doll still; past the prime of her life but still young. And yet she lived, happy and healthy and whole, and for this Aladdin felt his chest swell with relief and pride. No matter the yearnings of her heart, no matter whose face adorned her bureau, he was glad to see his princess still living, still breathing, and still fighting, though it seemed she did not want to any longer.

Aladdin watched her for a few moments, wondering why she stared blankly beyond the mirror, above her reflection. She wiped a few stray strands of hair away from her eyes and pinched her cheeks, trying to awaken some feeling, some sensation similar to the jolt of electricity she had felt earlier. Jasmine did not sing or hum a peaceful melody to calm her nerves, nor did she smile—she simply sat still, staring off into the mirror and Aladdin could only guess of what she thought, if she thought at all. He could see her eyes lit up suddenly at some recollection, and then fade away again into the hazy orbs that now characterized her face. She might sigh deeply, contentedly, when her eyes closed, and then instantly she would reopen them and nearly cry out.

Aladdin walked slowly toward her, desperate to see her closely and to examine her without reservation, but unwilling to allow her acknowledgement of his presence. When he stood by her side, he saw that her gaze seemed to occasionally fall upon a blue and gold vase that held a single white jasmine blossom. Surprised, Aladdin wondered how Jasmine had managed to keep the flower from their first date alive after more than five years. He suspected Genie had something to do with it, and he reached out tentatively to finger the petals, which were still as smooth and silky as the night he had plucked it for her.

"_I can open your eyes…Take you wonder by wonder…Over sideways and under…On a magic carpet ride…A whole new world…A new fantastic point of view…No one to tell us no…Or where to go…Or say we're only dreaming…"_

Aladdin frowned as the memory played in his head. So much for the heroic savior he turned out to be. He had save the kingdom from the evil clutches of Jafar, and destroyed his lamp some months later. Then, he spent the better part of a year trekking across the Seven Deserts, defeating countless foes and looking for more gold and treasure in fruitless attempts to justify his right to be with her. He had promised to open her eyes, and he might have done that—he had shown her the world outside of the palace, outside of her cage. But had he ever really spent time with her, romantic or otherwise, that didn't somehow involve his friends or the al Muddi, a werewolf, or Mozenrath? How often had he relished in her scent, her touch, her taste? How often had he told her she was beautiful simply because she took his breath away, and not as a cover up for some mishap that he'd caused? He had promised her the world and instead delivered unto her unspeakable pain and misery, all for a cause he didn't fully understand and for a people who did not trust him. And now only memories remained, lost in the dreams they could not escape even if they wanted to. Now they were only dreaming.

His hand released the petals of the flower, and it swayed in the vase, catching the attention of its human counterpart. Aladdin waited and watched as Jasmine entertained the same memory in her own head; her lips let out a brief sigh that was neither despondent nor dejected and a small smile crossed over her mouth. Her head rocked gently in rhythm with the song Aladdin knew well, for it was he who had written it; and before he could stop himself, Aladdin began to hum the sweet melody for his princess, so softly in her ear so she did not notice that it came from outside her head.

His humming became whispering as Jasmine's voice joined his, the song resonating from within their hearts and into the open room. Aladdin fumbled with some of the words, but Jasmine seemed to know them by heart—the lyrics danced off her tongue and mingled with Aladdin's voice, which slowed and hitched to support her chorus. Their spirits soared, tumbled, freewheeling through the imaginary landscape that was both familiar and alien, a place they had visited but could never return to. Jasmine's muscles relaxed and her body melted into the song, tension and stress and worry escaping them both as they reveled in the harmonious music and memory, united together as they both whispered their respective parts into the night. When the song finished, they two sighed in bliss, forgetting that one could not see the other and that the other had been gone for nearly four years with no word and no promise of return.

Jasmine hugged her arms around herself tighter, and she smiled a simple and tender smile that Aladdin knew was reserved for him alone. He wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, caress her skin and stroke her hair. But he could not for fear of giving himself away. He would have to wait a little while longer, just a few more weeks, perhaps, and then he would be free to embrace her and make her his own forever.

Lost in thought, Aladdin did not see Jasmine reach into a small, plum colored box near the tabletop and pull out a frayed and worn photo from a linen scarf. His heart jumped in his chest as he recognized himself on the paper—she still had the picture that should have been in the frame. Aladdin wondered why she had replaced it to begin with while still holding onto the previous one, but he forced his mind away from that thought. He did not want to know about the other man in the frame, nor what his relationship to Jasmine meant. Aladdin only wanted to concentrate on his fair princess since he had but a few moments before he needed to retire to his hovel.

Jasmine clutched the picture that was tear stained and tattered with a vivacity and strength that made Aladdin's chest swell with emotion. He was so proud of her, so proud that she had been able to thrive and continue one despite the heartbreak that was still evident in her thoughts, in her movements. She was a resilient and courageous woman, and Aladdin knew there was no one else in the world for him—she must be his soul mate, his counterpart, his other half. He watched as she held the picture in the light, her eyes slowly scanning the many facets of his face and upper body as though recalling tiny details about his figure. His wavy hair, his lopsided smile, his lithe form, his chestnut colored eyes. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed loudly, the way his face grew solemn when he watched her intently. Her fingers converged against the colors on the paper, trying to remember the texture, the feel, of his skin. Her eyes began to water and a single tear slid down the side of her face.

Still cradling the photograph, Jasmine slowly stood from her chair and walked placidly back to her bed, pulling the lantern's light as she went so that the room was pitched in darkness. She lay down on her side, above the sheets, and held the picture before her face. The princess stared at its image for a few minutes more, struggling to keep her eyes open against the lateness of the hour. Aladdin knelt in front of her and sighed against her face, knowing that she would not allow herself to drift off to sleep—she wanted to remember and reminisce, but needed peace. Aladdin slowly brought the blankets over her waist to tuck her in, and his heart broke even more when she failed to realize the action, so lost in the past that she could not see the present. He was sure that she was strong during the day; Fasir had told him as much. It was the nights that took their toll, so long and lonely and without the earthly comforts that friendship and love convey.

"Aladdin."

Slightly startled, the hero stared down at Jasmine's lips to discover that she had spoken his name, whispered it into the night so that the sound was almost silent, tacit in the scene. He looked up at her eyes to see them again hazy and unfocused. He knew that she could not see him, but that she might feel his presence there, attributing it to her memories and the aching that accompanied them. She could feel him near her, but she thought that it was just a mirage, a fantasy that she had played out over and over in her mind after closing her eyes but before reaching the confines of sleep.

He began to hum the melody of their song again, his voice flowing slowly over her laying frame and she shivered, but her eyes finally fluttered close. She tried to hum her parts of the song, but her voice grew quieter as the music that they made soothed her spirit and eased her heartache. Aladdin lightly cupped her face as he whispered the song in her ear, and he knew that sleep had overtaken her when her hand fell on top of the pillow for support and her grip on the picture slackened. But she refused to let it go completely.

He stayed with her a moment longer, drinking it her sight for the final time before his departure. He would be back, he promised to the night, to his love, even if he had to move mountains and conquer the entire Seven Deserts. He would return to her.

Jasmine barely opened her eyes at the sound of the curtain swaying in the darkness. Her vision was blurry but she could see a shadowy figure turning the corner and leaving the room without looking back. Just before she succumbed to her weariness, her heart shuddered one last time and a sad smile painted her lips when she saw a familiar red fez hidden in her illusion.

Aladdin surveyed the outline of the balcony, pulling the hood back over his head and covering his face with the cloth. He took a deep breath, rubbed the ring once, then twice, then three times as he sprinted toward the edge of the balcony, and hurtled over the railing with ease. The hero jumped from the balcony and landed on his feet some thousand feet below, without loss of feeling. His knees bent low so that his cloak pooled atop the limestone walkways amidst the lush garden, and his face contorted in pain beneath his mask so that it appeared lost in the shadows. No one could discern his figure as the cloak wrapped tightly around him, and he let out a tremendous gasp as his feet contacted; but just as quickly as he fell, the hero dashed to the nearest trees to avoid detection and artfully scaled the wall without strength or muscle to conduct him.

Aladdin wove his way through the darkness, slinking into the gloomy crevices of the kingdom as though he had created them. His neck strained forward to glance around the thin corner edges of the fragmented buildings and shops and temples. He passed more people now and then, whose dark and sinister stares elicited no response from the time-tested hero of the sands. He seemed to pass trough walls and gates uninhibited by solidity, murmuring each time to the ring as his cloak swept past the derelict surfaces that marked personal property and gang territory.

At last, the hero entered a familiar realm and his eyes lighted eagerly at the sight. The building sat upon the outskirts of the city, tucked away between dangerous alleyways and friendly neighborhoods. The wall surrounding the kingdom was nearby; Aladdin touched his fingers to it lightly, tracing the grooves and nicks in its side from years of wear. The heat still lingered on the side of the gate although night had fallen fully. Aladdin passed through the recognizable entrance into the decrepit building, and slowly climbed the stairs, one at a time, aided by no magic. Memories again washed over him like forceful waves of water, filling his head with images and sensations from years before when he had walked the same path, up the same stairs, into the same hovel.

The climb was arduous, but Aladdin welcomed the exercise. His muscles flexed and toned with each stride, and he kept an even pace as he made his up and over many old buildings and arches, never feeling a stitch in his side or a pain in his lungs. Months of riding Carpet up to the high tower before his departure had made him more agile, in keeping with the swift and unsteady movements of the rug, but also weaker. Now, years of wielding sword and spear and ring had given Aladdin such strength as never before witnessed in the slim and sprightly hero. He felt power course through his hands into his arms and shoulders, down to his thighs and feet that made his journey effortless.

He reached the twelfth story and adjusted his eyes to the minute moonlight that shone over the roof. He quickly found the light pole slung carelessly to the side of the landing, and he held it closely to his face to inspect its durability but found no cracks or splints. He walked to the edge of the roof and then sprinted to its opposite edge, where he positioned the pole's tip against the shallow rim and vaulted across the immeasurable gap to a landing on the opposite side. The warm wind brushed gently across his face and he closed his eyes when he landed firmly on the sandstone, having lost no breath in the strenuous exertion. Aladdin lowered the pole and let it fall from his fingertips; he turned to gaze upon the final entrance to his home. He smiled beneath the cloak as he walked inside, instinctually ducking his head as he passed the low beams and fallen walls of the top room.

At first glance he was disappointed not to find his friends sleeping listlessly about the room; Abu curled up against the smooth steps, Iago perched precariously on a small peg, Carpet carefully laid out on the ledge, and Genie's lamp set atop a firm cushion in the corner. There was no sight of any of them, and in fact it seemed to Aladdin that the room had not been touched in years. The shuffle of the hero's feet disturbed thick dust lining the floor, and the cushions and curtains seemed to be piled fastidiously near the window, not strewn about as was typical. Aladdin's eyebrows knitted in concern: where would his friends be if not in their home?

Even as the supernatural being appeared, streamed in shadow, Aladdin turned on his heels and crouched defensively. His senses became away of the voice before it even escaped the speaker's lips.

"They are not here, Aladdin. They sleep in the palace now, at the request of the princess."

Aladdin peered suspiciously into the night as the figure approached, cutting through the rafters without impediment. He moved back to the oversized window, and when the moonlight fell on the old man, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Do you always have to enter a room that way? You could at least knock." A small smile tugged at Aladdin's lips, but remained hidden beneath the mask. He eyed Fasir wearily and sat down on the ledge overlooking the grand city.

"What purpose would a knock serve if there is no door?"

Aladdin huffed slightly, but did not say anything. He contemplated the view, awaiting orders from the wise and elderly man. Aladdin was used to this cat and rat game, where the cat seemed to hold all the answers while the street rat did his bidding, still surprised that the feline had not devoured him. But that was foolish thinking—Aladdin was still alive and strong yet, and although he knew that Fasir spoke for his best interest, he couldn't help but feel contempt for the one with all the answers, when he himself had none.

Fasir stood quietly, half in shadow and half in light. The heavy rag that covered his eyes was weathered, and his robes were soiled and torn. He stood with a hand on his heart, his bowed head catching lines of moonlight with its silver white strands of hair. Aladdin looked back at him curiously before returning his gaze to the city, still unused to the strange customs of the seer. But when Aladdin shifted his hand, the glint of the ruby-covered ring reminded him of its wear. Fasir, who could not see physically, knew the location of the ring even in the darkness

"You wear the ring without sign of fatigue. But I wonder whether it will take its toll on you yet."

Aladdin finally turned to address Fasir, crossly. He clenched his fists in resentment. "I have to wear it. There's no safer place for it than on my hand." Fasir considered Aladdin for a moment, while the street rat returned the apparent stare, challenging it. Anger seemed to stir within him, anger that rose from the red ruby shine of the jinni's ring.

The mask which shrouded Fasir's eyes twitched as the old man lifted an eyebrow in response. "Power takes as ingratitude the writhing of its victims." His robes swirled in the dust on the ground. "It has not obeyed you fully." It was not a question.

Aladdin coughed hoarsely, his eyes narrowing in the semidarkness. He felt contempt for the old man's wise observations; but how did he always know the truth despite his constant disappearances? Aladdin could only offer a small shrug, the truth spilling from his lips like water. "It gives me strength when I ask for it, but it also gives me a lot of pain. It never does what I want completely." He fingered the gold sphere on his hand and touched the great many rubies encrusted in its side. He spoke his mind suddenly, struck by a thought that had manifested during the last few years. "I don't think the jinni wants me to have the ring at all."

Fasir brought his hands together as if in prayer, pointing them at Aladdin to communicate the direction of his gaze. "The jinni has no qualms against you, Aladdin. It takes no sides in mortal affairs. But you are not the true master of the ring, and therefore are not the true master of the jinni."

Aladdin looked up, disappointment etched in his eyes. "But I've had the ring for four years now, ever since I stole it from Maghreb. When will it finally accept me as its master?"

Fasir shook his head slowly and the long tendrils of his hair moved against the grey and black backdrop palette. "Need you be master to conquer other masters before you?" Aladdin looked away bitterly, visibly, and childishly, huffing at the thought.

"No. But it sure would help when I run into Mozenrath again." Aladdin rubbed his side temples, weariness tugging at his muscles and mind. He was so very tired.

But the statement caused Fasir to chortle, and Aladdin looked back in wonder and surprise. "Does the sorcerer bring such fear into your heart, Aladdin? He is but a man after all."

Aladdin rolled his eyes at the idea. "Oh, yes, only a man. Only a man with unspeakable power and ambition." He sighed wistfully, wishing to change the reality of the tension between the young arch rivals. "Why does Mozenrath have to come after me, have to fight me still? Why wouldn't he just join my side, since Maghreb is a threat to him too?"

Fasir cocked his head to the side, seeming to contemplate the answer before responding. He frowned slightly, and Aladdin could tell that the wise man had expected different behavior from the young sorcerer. Seconds passed as a small breeze swam through the hovel, swirling the dust in strange patterns before Fasir, and at their arrival he seemed to find truth in his answer.

"Mozenrath remains dominated by power. But he will transform soon enough." Aladdin pierced the old man with an intense stare, prompting him to elaborate. Fasir looked at him blankly, without expression, although Aladdin was sure that if he could see Fasir's eyes, they would hold a small flicker of hidden candor. "Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other."

Aladdin returned his gaze to the floor and pondered the statement, turning the words over in his mind. "Does that mean he will finally get a girlfriend?" He looked up hopefully in response, but Fasir did not answer. Aladdin sighed and turned back to view the city. He grew tired of Fasir's unhelpful prophecies, and wished the wise man would speak more plainly. How would Aladdin know what was was to come if Fasir only spoke in riddles?

The hero was tired of talking, tired of thinking, tired of fighting. For four years, he had journeyed perilously through the Seven Deserts, battling wave after wave of sorcerers, swordsmen, paupers and princes. He had been witness to the escalation of warfare, seen sultans and their wives die at the hands of enemy insurgents. So much blood had been spilt, and for what? Aladdin could see no end in sight to all the chaos, and only wished to return home to Agrabah, return to a time where fighting had been against supernatural monsters and when heroes and princesses always won. Everything, even the truth, seemed clouded in the turmoil of war, where blood and lives were wasted upon the treacherous desert sand. There was no black and white now, only red and grey.

Aladdin had wanted to return to his city, to his love, ever since the day he left it nearly four years ago. It had been too much for the street rat to be separated from all that he held dear; truth be told, he had never really spent that much time away from the kingdom before, and for the first eighteen years of his life he had walked the streets of Agrabah contentedly. He had been engaged to the princess, had freed a jinni, and had made dozens of friends and enemies along the way, but there was nothing in his life he regretted. Until now.

Aladdin thought of his princess, sleeping soundly, listlessly, in the cool palace twilight and he wished beyond measure to join her in long, uninterrupted slumber. He wanted the fighting to end, he wanted the betrayals to end, and he wanted to journey to the past where love and life were the measures of a man, not weapons and power. But when would he be able to return to Agrabah again? It would be too dangerous to visit frequently, but if Aladdin had his way he would visit his friends each and everyday. It had only been his perpetual struggles in the far east that had kept the street rat away, but now that the war drew near to his home he felt more compelled to remain and ensure the safety of his loved ones.

As though he had spoken the thought aloud, Fasir stirred in his silence, and Aladdin was sure that the old man had been waiting to address the point.

"You should not have visited the palace, Aladdin. It was foolish of you to do so."

Aladdin, surprised at the frankness of the statement, cast his gaze upon the cushions in the opposite corner, guiltily. He should have known that the old man would be aware of his indiscretion. "…I know. But I had to see her. I needed to make sure she was okay."

"And my constant assurance that she is does not grant you faith?"

Aladdin played with the string of his cloak when he answered. "It's…different. I needed to see her with my own eyes." He let the silence ring in the air and when Fasir did not answer, patiently waiting for Aladdin to explain, the hero angrily tossed the cord from his hands. "You act like this isn't hard for me! I haven't seen her or my friends in years, haven't even spoken with someone from Agrabah in just as long! They don't even know why I'm gone; they must think I deserted them!" He tore the mask from his face and head and stared down at his palms. "They already moved on." He gestured furiously to his own face, his mouth curved in a cross scowl. "They wouldn't recognize me even if they did see me."

The improbability of this statement was not lost on the street rat, but even if his friends welcomed him back with open arms he knew that things could never be the same. He had abandoned his love, his life, the very night before their wedding ceremony. And in four short years, she had already moved on, as was necessary to secure the standing of her kingdom. His friends had stopped looking for him; their palpable absence from his hovel home marked their desertion. Aladdin could not blame them for relinquishing his memory, especially since he had given that memory up himself. He could not remember what he had even looked like before this war, and as his mind grasped new experiences of bloodshed and perfidy, he was forced to forget the wholesome memories of his former life. What strategy was used to defeat the serpent Malcho? What was the name of the imp who had set Genie off to no end? What was the Jasmine's mother's name? Simple details he could not remember; his body seemed to recall only vague feelings and washed emotions that still stung his heart.

Fasir moved slowly through the mingled shadows and moonlight until he stood near the ledge opposite from Aladdin. "Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."

Aladdin could only stare out into the night as these words, less of a riddle than a statement of truth. But it brought no comfort to the street rat, whose mind had already betrayed his heart by forgetting his former life. He could not be there for his friends or his love, and they had no choice but to move on with their lives, saving reminiscence of the hero for late night dreams and nightmares.

Fasir stood watchful at the ledge, seeming to peer into the darkness as though he could see. But Aladdin knew better than this; despite the old man's appearance, Fasir saw more and knew more about the seven kingdoms than any other man alive. He was an acting force in this war, but his help was divided and difficult to follow, especially given his habit of disappearing for weeks on end, visiting Aladdin sometimes only in his dreams to deliver some urgent news or report. Fasir spoke again through the silence, chastising Aladdin in all but the tone of his voice, which remained steady and unperturbed.

"Agrabah is a fair and open kingdom. The Sultan and his daughter fare well but remain naive to the endeavors of their neighbors." He turned toward Aladdin and quirked an eyebrow when the hero shivered in the heated night and pursed his lips, observably unconvinced.

"Not every servant is a spy, you know. And no one saw me enter or leave her balcony."

Fasir turned sharply to face the street rat, and despite the form of a sharp gaze, Aladdin could still feel its intensity. "You do not know such. Or did the ring aid you in this journey?" Aladdin nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Fasir cut him off forcefully.

"There need be only one spy for your presence to be known." He waved his hands before the open window of the hovel and Aladdin saw sand glittering as it fell from the sorcerer's hands. A vivid image appeared in front of the hero just outside his hovel, and Aladdin rubbed his eyes at the sudden contrast of light. More than a picture, the illusion that Fasir created was a multidimensional image of the past, no different from the image he and Fasir made before it.

Aladdin shot a glance at Fasir, questionably, before returning his gaze to the illusion. He saw himself and Jasmine, aboard Carpet high above the city, reaching for something that seemed out of their grasp. But the image appeared to steal away from the pair, and Aladdin could see that the view of their ride came from within the palace, where three servant girls sat giggling and pointing at the couple so far away. When the magic carpet vanished from sight, the servants fluttered their lashes and whispered behind open palms. They retreated from the open balcony, only to run into the royal vizier, Jafar. Aladdin clenched his fist at the image, but knew that Fasir conjured nothing but the past—Jafar was long dead. But the street rat watched as the servant girls gossiped loudly as they passed the man, who overheard every word of their conversation.

"That Prince Ali is quick with wit and charm to secure the princess!"

"And he's so handsome! I wonder that the princess will return intact, with grace! I know that if I were riding on a magic carpet with him, my virtue would surely be smeared across the Seven Deserts…gladly!" The other girls emitted high pitched squeals of laughter at this, and they exited the chamber with their polish and dusters.

Jafar listened intently to the dialogue, a vicious smile curving his upper lip into a sneer. He turned to eye Iago, who sat perched on his shoulder, and the pair immediately followed the puerile girls, attempting to discern more of their chatter. Aladdin could see the inner cogs of Jafar's mind rapidly running, and was sure that the moment had helped hatch his plan to ambush Aladdin on his return, when the royal vizier endeavored to assassinate the pretend prince once and for all.

Fasir lowered his arms and the image was wiped away instantly, like wind upon the desert sand. Aladdin pursued his lips but said nothing. He remained unconvinced, but Fasir had seen through his demeanor and sighed. He lifted his hands again, recreating another image that merged into the night sky, again of Aladdin flying atop Carpet, this time alone. He circled in the air, turning around to face an unknown enemy that hurtled fluid chunks of rock and smoke at the hero. Aladdin watched himself dodged the attacks effortlessly; he stood atop Carpet with ease and readied himself, as he hurtled downward to strike his surprised assailant, who disappeared beneath wisps of smoldering ash. Aladdin guessed that the villain of that episode had been Abis Mal, although he could not seen the bumbling idiot in the image. He recognized that chaotic care that the thief instilled with his half-hearted attempt to use a powerful deity to destroy Agrabah.

Aladdin was so focused on the image that he did not see the young child watching the illusion from the streets below. Fasir noticed, however, and suddenly moved his hands back into the hovel, taking Aladdin's image and his gaze into the depths of the room. Aladdin watched as the scene changed again; he saw the royal guards standing shuffled in a corner alley, below the flying Aladdin, reporting their findings to Rasoul. The city shook and trembled, as the ground itself split in two and fire and smoke whisked the edges of buildings. The head guard issued orders to the others which Aladdin could not hear—his attention focused intently on another figure, cast in darkness, whose eyes glinted red against the fire that burnt the city. It was not the monster that Aladdin had been fighting, but before the figure stepped away from the burning alley, Fasir once again lowered his hands to his sides.

Aladdin turned to look at Fasir, confused. The image was not something he could recall seeing or hearing about, though he was sure that the guards had sensed the mysterious presence even if they did not feel threatened by it. Fasir only folded his arms against his chest, his head bowed deeply as he delivered his message of clarity.

"That form was not someone you know, nor will ever meet. But through his simple observance, your person was chosen to retrieve the jinni's ring from the goddess of the underworld. From his simple observance, your life's journey was changed forever."

Aladdin frowned, the words sinking in slowly as his brain refused to acknowledge its implication. "I was chosen simply because I could fight monsters and hopeless villains?"

Fasir shook his head sternly. "You were chosen because you never surrendered, even when facing a demon god."

Aladdin's face fell slightly at the news. "That was really the only reason I was chosen? Not the whole diamond-in-the-rough thing?"

"Would you rather that the reason were to take you away from your beloved Princess so that she would not marry a commoner?"

Aladdin let out a sharp breath of anger. "What? That's not the reason I was drawn away from the city!" He abashedly paused. "Right?"

"Only one of many reasons you were made to steal the ring so as bring terror unto the land."

Aladdin rubbed the back of his neck, still angry but more confused than ever. "I did manage to steal the ring. And I think I may have brought that terror to the land, too." He sighed, and closed his eyes tightly shut. "I've tried so hard to bring peace to warring kingdoms, but so far I've only brought more war and more death to every city I've visited." A lump caught in the street rat's throat and he trembled to push it back, back to cloak his heart and not choke his words. "No good can come of my troubles." He thought silently of Jasmine and Genie and all his friends. He could not return to them yet, but he did not want to return to the warfront either.

He felt a crippled hand, curled in places where bones had broken, grip his shoulder softly, solidly. Aladdin turned his head away in shame.

"You do this and other lands a great service, even if your efforts appear in vain before the swarms of evil. But your task is not complete. Heart and spirit must bind together if you are to bring an end to war."

Aladdin struggled to open his eyes as the pain bit away at his chest like a chisel. Weariness and sorrow etched more lines into the young hero's face before he finally managed to look up at the wise man. Fasir managed only a small smile that quickly gave way to solemnity.

Aladdin understood the look and moved to the side of the window, away from the sill, kneeling down on one knee. He had agreed to meet Fasir in the hovel for a reason, and had only just remembered. The street rat reached below the rug and his fingers traced the edges of a stone slightly set above the rest; he gently lifted the smooth brown sandstone from its place to reveal a large, ornate wooden box. It was lighter than Aladdin remembered, and Fasir looked on as the street rat slowly unfastened the metal latch. He lifted the lid and stared intently at the contents of the box; a small thin dagger laid atop a cushion of red satin, with bright gold laid into the handle, an enormous turquoise gem marking the end. Blue sapphire twisted around the center where an ancient golden hand was embossed. Aladdin touched the leather straps gingerly, stroking the curled edges wrapped in yellow gold. He set the box upon the floor next to him, and lifted the dagger before him, inspecting it in the shallow moonlight, where it sparkled and shone just as bright as the ruby covered ring he wore.

Fasir eyed the piece carefully over the street rat's shoulder, tilting his head to examine the fine craftsmen work and detail embedded in its design. Aladdin pulled the blade from its sheath and ran his fingers across the smooth silver metal, its rounded edge still sharp enough to prick the hero's finger. Aladdin looked grimly at the small wound and hastily shoved the dagger back into the case, turning around to remove the existing knife from his belt and replace it with his father's.

"That is a fine blade, Aladdin. It will be necessary in times to come."

Aladdin looked up skeptically at the old man, his eyebrows raised, but he did not say anything. Fasir had requested that he retrieve the weapon, although Aladdin still did not understand how the sorcerer knew of its existence; even Jasmine, his former fiancée, did not know about the weapon. Aladdin held his older dagger in his hand, the one which he had earned after fighting off monster upon monster for Maghreb, the same one which the street had used to escape. It was a handy weapon, to be sure, and it was slightly larger than his father's dagger, making it more helpful, although its strength could not match the golden blade. After examining it for an indefinite time Aladdin decided to keep both, and he meticulously tucked the knife into the other side of his belt. Aladdin had been dueling swords for longer than he cared to remember, and he knew that two blades were always better than one.

The street rat stood up and the new daggers swung lightly at his side but remained hidden beneath his cloak. His face uncovered by the mask, Aladdin made a foreboding sight: dark and daunting, his lean muscular frame gave testimony to the years he had spent surviving beneath the hot desert sun and his eyes shone ominously beneath his heavy brow. He looked every bit the part of hero, and Fasir smiled tightly as he watched the younger man turn around to face the city. He knew that Aladdin was strong and resilient, but he also knew that if that strength and resilience was to continue he would need reassurance and guidance. Even as he watched, Aladdin's shoulders seemed to slump forward, his head titling down as he became entranced by a painful past, made evident by the large, majestic palace overpowering the view.

"Confidence is necessary for survival. You must prepare yourself for what is to come."

Aladdin glanced over his shoulder at the wise man. "It's hard to believe that four years ago I thought I was invincible, and now my own mortality hangs over me like a shadow."

Fasir stood silently behind the hero, and Aladdin felt an eerie sense of exposure; he knew that Fasir could see although he had no sight, and that he could understand the inner workings of Aladdin's heart and mind without observance. He did not like opening up to the old man, especially since he had a feeling that Fasir knew the stirring emotions which attacked Aladdin's composure even before Aladdin recognized the symptoms himself.

But the silence grew more awkward, and the street rat shifted his weight uncomfortably. "What if I don't make it through this war, Fasir? What if I can't save all these people?" He turned to look at the blind man, eyes fading in the pale moonlight.

Fasir bowed his head again and breathed deeply. "Fear not for the future, Aladdin, for it will come soon enough." He turned his arm over, revealing the base of his palm. "But you must not weep for the past. One face's the future with one's past. Your part in this was not accidental."

Aladdin nodded imperceptibly, and his eyes grew heavy with both the past and the future. He felt the sting of sand against his rough palms, and knew that the shattered grains carved away more than just his skin—the sand swept over his life and suffocated his very memory. He turned to Fasir to see the old man backing away slowly to the other end of the hovel, and when he spoke Aladdin stood still and silent.

"To ease another's heartache is to forget one's own. But you must pay the price if you wish to secure the blessing." Fasir began to fuse with the shadows again and Aladdin could only make out the outline of the crinkled white blindfold that marked the old man's sight. "Leave neither letter nor mark of your presence here. You keep Agrabah safe by keeping her enemies far." Aladdin held out a hand to stop the quick exit, but by the time he had gotten to his feet he stood alone in the hovel. His hand fell dejectedly to his side and he cast his eyes upon the dusty floor. He ran his hands through his hair, but did not notice his missing fez.

Fasir spoke only in tongues that Aladdin could not comprehend, and it had been as such for more than four years. With only vague guidance and careless aid from the old man, Aladdin could only hope to win the war with his own sheer luck and bravery. But now was not the time to consider the impossibilities of his journey, or to consider abandoning his duty to the people of the desert.

Aladdin stood facing the exit to his hovel, the exit to the kingdom, and with ghostlike strength he turned his back on his beloved, his city, one last time.


End file.
